


One Spider, Two Worlds, Three Women, Everything Else In Between

by Goodking



Category: Amalgam Comics, DCU (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Wonder Woman (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Amazon Position, Anal Sex, Cock & Ball Torture, Comic Book Lore, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Fisting, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Humiliation, Kinda?, Light Bondage, M/M, Magic Cock, Multi, Muscles, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pegging, Rimming, Sexfight, Spanking, Urination, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 52,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodking/pseuds/Goodking
Summary: In a world where Peter Parker got his height stunted at short king levels by the dastardly radioactive Spider biting him on the dick and causing him to redirect most of his growth there, dark forces are in motion. Ripples across time and space have caused a breach between two realities, the Twins once again aware of the other existence, as more and more obscure and not so obscure lore is used as an excuse to have hot people fuck each other, right from across the Marvel and DC universes, all centered around our own favorite webslinger, his new, Amazon friend and her rippling abs, the love of his life as she discovers her apparently pivotal role in the continued existence of reality, and the sexy cat burglar currently only in it for the hell of it.And it all starts, on a rooftop of New York, with two superheroes from different worlds deciding to have a naked wrestling match together.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Peter Parker, Felicia Hardy/Mary Jane Watson, Felicia Hardy/Peter Parker, Felicia Hardy/Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. The One with the Sexfight

Truth be told, this wasn't the first time Peter Parker, or as he was most commonly known Spider-Man, found himself locked in battle against a much stronger and sturdier foe, on the rooftops of New York, and for not better specified reasons.

Neither was this the first time he was doing so naked.

This was, however, the first time in his entire superhero career where the foe he was currently facing happened to also be naked. Peter had decided to not count villains such as Sauron or the Lizard from the previous statement, mostly due to the fact that he might one day fight against them again, and he’d rather think of them as wearing a elaborate and stuck to their skin fursuit just like other, hopefully not naked members of his rogue gallery, rather than actually having to imagine where exactly would a naked pterodactyl-man hide his penis.

However, in order to clear how all of this has come to be, let’s get back to the beginning of this story.

At the dawn of existence, there were two twins, one unaware of the other, eldritch existences of unimaginable power and scope, above eternity and infinity themselves, sleeping a dreamless slumber…

…

OK, maybe not that far back.

Let’s get back to simpler stuff, somewhere at the start of the century. Plenty of weird shit happened in the first decade of the new millennium, especially to Spidey, and among all that aforementioned weird shit, our friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man found himself with his then wife in a reality where she was still his wife, as she was visiting the university campus where he was teaching at, as he, dressed as Spider-Man, was fighting the Juggernaut and some dude claiming to be an evil god from a distant world.

One of the students there, who no one will remember, and no one should remember least reality where to break apart again, caught in the middle of the brawl, had the bright idea to use his own set of powers to summon a champion from that same distant world as the evil god dude, there to help our friendly neighborhood’s Spider-Man in his time of need.

And that Champion was Diana of Themyscira, better known to the masses as her own superhero name of Wonder Woman.

The two heroes had then made short work of the villains, fighting separately against each of them and then together as a team, and so met, under such circumstances, by Teaming up against a common foe.

This whole incident was just the start of a bigger, ever spanning issue of troubles, featuring Magneto and an evil god-king from across the multiverse, but Spider-Man preferred not to be present for that mess to unfold, and so, short on webs, he tried to ask the very kind yet way taller woman, half joking, if he could borrow her rope to use to swing back home.

And that was the moment Wonder Woman proposed to Spider-Man a Greco-Roman wrestling match in order to asses if he was worthy to wield the lasso of truth.

To this day Peter Parker blesses his oh so beautiful and wise and _did he mention smart_ then still wife for stopping him from saying or doing anything he would have definitely ended up regretting later, reminding our hero that, believe it or not, he was married, to a super model to boot, which meant he definitely had better things to do than ogle incredibly tall and incredibly shredded amazon women from other universes and very little clothing, just the kick he needed for him to _run the fuck away from there_.

So, here’s our story, Peter Parker, AKA Spider-Man, facing off Diana of Themyscira, AKA Wonder Woman, on the rooftops of New York, both naked as the day they were either born or molded from clay depending on which sources you asked.

But how did this come to happen? In order to understand this, we need to take another step back, to a beginning before the previous beginning but after the actual beginning of reality.

This is Earth #177013 of what you, whoever you might be, call the Marvel Universe.

Unfortunately, all the 69s and 420s were taken.

It’s a world not dissimilar from the “Prime” 616 world, but still with plenty of differences and divergences, for better or for worse.

For example, in the prime 616 world, the extraplanar elder being called Origin decided to die of natural causes in the body of a nice old lady in rural America as her ancestral enemy, the Unbeing, God of Retcons and Inexistence, was being murdered by the then Quasar Wendell Vaughn, while in the body of the old woman’s creepy pre-teen grandchild.

(It was surprisingly brutal. Kid’s bits being blown all around the old lady’s hospital room by quantum’ energies as an elder god defying mortal comprehension erupting from the pulverized carcass and screaming as it’s ejected from the cycle of death and rebirth and all that. I had to watch it all from my specially assigned extradimensional television, shit was _sick_ ).

In this world, the one we are seeing now, however, Origin had instead managed to switch up places with her archnemesis without having to rely on Wendel Vaughn’s brutal murderer skills, and at a much earlier time than the one when it happened in the prime universe, killing the Unbeing in her former body after the switch up. This also forced the Unbeing outside the cycle of rebirth of their kind, much like Quasar’s actions did to the Unbeing of Earth 616, tearing him away from reality for millennia to come, but also transformed the being responsible for giving superheroes their Origin Stories and Powers, the one who made them THEM, and put her in the body of a bisexual soon to be teenager boy in the middle of a hormone crisis, right at the start of the previous century, while also having just spent most of their previous life living as a immigrant woman in rural America, and a pretty “free spirited” one at that, with all that might entail.

You see where this is going, dear reader? Because I am.

For I, am Utua, Watcher of Earth #177013, and I am always watching. I am not the Uatu of earth 616 because I’m pretty sure he is dead and also because the author wants an excuse to make me talk however the fuck they like because consistency is the death of adventure and of the only other 4 beings we could have asked for to narrate this, two are in the story proper so we couldn’t exactly have narrate this too due to the conflict of interests, we couldn’t afford the costs for the third one and we really couldn’t ask Deadpool, dude just joined a 100 steps program in order to become a better person after his monster wife left him for Dracula, the man responsible for killing her brothers, and he is still on the “right the wrongs my actions caused in the past” step, so he’s currently using time travel to stop his past self from helping the Confederacy win the war AGAIN, which most likely makes him unavailable for the all foreseeable future. And past too, now that I think about it.

So, here I am, OC do not steal, big head and all-seeing eyes and voyeur fetish and all that. I know everything there is to know about this universe, and I will be your omniscient narrator, removing myself from the plot as much as possible much like Uatu does with those weird What If Stories from the bronze age he liked to narrate so much. The people I will be watching alongside you will not notice us, unless they were made able to, and we will enjoy everything that is about to unfold before our eyes, with as little Lemony Snicket’s like interference as possible.

But in order to do so, we need ANOTHER step back, to another beginning, the second to last one for this issue before finally getting to the juice of the story I promise.

This beginning is the beginning that Origin, this new, young, libertine Origin, chose for our Peter Parker. On that specific day of his youth, our hero was, much like in other universes, bitten by that radioactive spider, awakening the spider genes in his body that were left over from generations of selective yet involuntary breeding starting from his oldest ancestor banging some nice young man who had decided to join her tribe with a bright smile and some nice gifts of furs and meat for her and the elders while he oh so happened to also be the result of the Krees fucking with some locals’ DNA and giving them monstrous features just to win a dick measuring contest with their then not so ancestral enemies the Skrulls, which meant that probably? Peter Parker’s ancestor had a spinneret instead of an ass or some other freaky shit.

(But honestly, Peter Parker’s ancestor being a monster isn’t that weird per se. His other ancestor being a monster fucker, on the other hand, probably explains more stuff than people might be comfortable with).

But you see, that one Spider kickstarting Peter Parker’s powers, the one with all the radiation, the one existing in this one instance of the Marvel Universe, in this very specific beginning, didn’t, in fact, bite him on the hand.

No.

It bit him on the Dick.

And indeed, it did. Saw it all. Poor guy was having a bathroom break at the museum’s toilets, spider managed to follow him all the way there and bit him, right on the dick. The Spectacular Spider-Man became the Spectacular Spider-Man because a radioactive spider was, indeed, into watersports.

Also, into feet. Just ask Silk. Or don’t. Yeah probably don’t, not sure how she’d take that.

Anyway, it’s especially important to know therefore that, this Peter Parker, the one from the universe this story is taking place in, was, and I can’t stress this enough, bit on his dick by the spider because, while his dormant spider genes passed over by his ancestor being dicked down by a spider monster guy might have a major role in awakening his powers, so does the specific place where the spider bit him.

(Again, just ask Silk).

Which means, dick bite? All a new range of powers for our friendly neighborhood web swinger.

Except no, not really. Our Peter Parker is still the same, still old regular web swinger, his life still had basically the same twists and turns, you know, dead uncle, dead girlfriend, dead Jean De Wolfe, CIA Agents Robot Parents, Gwen Stacey still got rawed by Norman Osborn, still deal with the devil, still died and gave birth to himself…

But still, even with all those similarities, this Spider-Man still has some key differences in regards of other… web slinging shenanigans, and let’s leave it at that for now.

It’s however important to notice how, due to the peculiar location the Spider bit him on, Peter Parker’s growth has gotten slightly stunted ever since he awakened his powers. Let me just say, it was super weird for our web swinger, when Gwen Stacey, the shortest of his female friends, happened to be ALMOST eye level with him. Like, 1; 2 centimeters taller than him, give or take.

(Some sort of “Law of Equivalent Exchange,” if you will).

But this will come up later, first, let’s get back to the beginning of all this mess, the real one, which indeed started with Spider-Man stopping the museum of natural arts robbery in the middle of the night. Standard fare, no actual supervillains where involved, no actual sweat either on his part, a normal and quiet night for our friendly neighborhood web swinger.

But then, as he took some rest on a nearby roof, up and away from the streets below, almost as if guided by fate, a small tear between two realities happened, unceremoniously dumping a confused Wonder Woman on that roof, right in front of an equally confused Spider-Man.

Now, what if I told you that one same Amazon Princess Peter Parker had drooled over once before, happened to get transported right in front of him, confused and dazed, and met that one same strange, short man from years ago, how do you think it would go? Would they fight for contrived reasons? Would they remember each other? Would they try to calm down and understand what was going on, like rational adults and consumed professionals? Maybe even Team Up against a common enemy so to strengthen their bonds as heroes?

Yes, but not necessarily in this order.

So, finished the obligatory song and dance of the Superhero Team-Up, reconciled the two heroes, defeated some common enemy together as a team building exercise (Poor Shocker never knew what hit him), our two heroes are now contemplating their next moves.

Here they are, Amazon and Spider, finishing some hot dogs they just snagged from a local vendor and having a modicum amount of fun for them, sitting on the edge of that same roof where he found her, legs swinging below, admiring the night sky and the city, yet also reacquainting once more with each other, back from their brief encounter way back in their shared past, but also wondering why was this happening in the first place, was this maybe another multiversal crisis and not just the universe conspiring against them so they could bully the Shocker? Or perhaps something more primal regarding their very beings and their existence, some connection between their worlds and their identities, much like Captain America and Batman seemed to have?

Or maybe something simple, a promise still unfulfilled from their last encounter, something Wonder Woman still remembers, and decides to bring up, innocently or not so innocently, to her masked companion, with the fatal words…

* * *

“Tell me, Spider-Man, you still up for that wrestling match?”

Spider-Man stops mid ramble. He was going on a detailed and yet incredibly rushed explanation of how much exactly had the world gotten more fucked since the last time she was there, mostly as a form of “briefing,” so to speak, to help her get acclimated so she could later tell him about her own world, and the differences it might have with his, and he has to mentally berate himself for not noticing his new (old?) friend having stopped listening to him a couple run-in sentences ago, lost in her own thoughts.

Then he fully understands what she has just said to him so he, quite audibly, gulps.

Wonder Woman (Or Diana as she said, because apparently where’s she’s from they are not giving away their secret identity on the first date) must have heard it because she is giving him a sly smile, almost coy. She didn’t change much from that day on the university’s campus, except she even got more stacked (if possible), her armor still covering most of her body yet not covering enough at all, chest piece and a damn leather miniskirt and tiara and metal gauntlets and sandal boots and that damn golden rope he so stupidly asked to borrow from her all those years ago.

Now, Peter has had his own share of half-naked people with muscles, or people way taller than him. It came with the job, really, he even tried to date some of them a few times, never really took off, so this wasn’t really anything new for him, but still, even with the armor covering what little it did, he could tell bust by her bare, defined, toned, rippling legs out and about, and the visibly muscled arms she sported, bare except for those gauntlets, relaxed and slack at her sides as they were, he could tell the woman had an eight pack. That she was shredded.

A small part of Peter’s brain, represented by an Angel with red hair and a loving smile and a white and red spider-costume, had to briefly wondered just how good they might have looked if he asked her to flex, just a little, and about just how well those strong arms would be able to hold him and hug him and shield him and his loved ones away from danger.

A bigger part of Peter’s brain, however, represented in this metaphor by a Devil with white hair and a mischievous smile and a black catsuit, pointed out instead how all this talk was probably just the gentlemen in him trying to still be horny about the virtually unknown woman in front of him for yes attractive but unconventional reasons rather than the glaring and obvious reasons that she was, yes, not only way taller than him, but that she was also sporting, along all those muscles and height, was, to put it in the terms a terrible male noir and sci-fi author would understand, one of the biggest, largest, bounciest, most suckable, thickest combo of ass and, yes, indeed, boobs, he had seen this side of the multiverse, all contained in a miraculously well-fitting armor, by some miracle shaped like some metal one piece bathing suit, with a leather skirt added for some semblance of modesty and “historical accuracy.”

Before he could dwell on that cursed thought, Peter miraculously realized, far too late for his tastes, that his companion was probably still waiting a answer from him.

“Uuuuuuuhh-“ he brilliantly states using his trained and consumed rhetorical skills, because the least terrible thing he can think at the moment are, again, those rippling tights crushing his head to a pulp for some reason, and how is he supposed to answer her question about grappling for sport with a hot woman that can probably break him in half, and why the hell didn’t he accept her proposal that one time?

Of course he knows, somewhere on the bottom of his mind, that there was a reason why he didn’t accept last time but for the life of him he can’t seem to remember it at the moment, as if someone or something had just erased the driving force of most of his adult life and replaced it with doctored memories, but for the life of him he can’t remember how did he forget that he was ever marr-

“We will of course need to be in the nude” she says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and she’s giving him a patient smile for his current bout of brain fart, probably assuming he’s overwhelmed by her sudden change of pace in their conversation and some compassion and understanding are going to put him more at ease with, which believe it or not is actually having the exact opposite effect because now the gorgeous, shredded, tall as fuck amazon princess is also smiling at him.

“That is, if you do not think of anything better we could do?”

“Fuck.” Peter says, almost instantly, and the second the word goes out of his mouth his hand slams to his mouth, still covered by his mask.

Diana laughs, it’s melodious and full of mirth and for a weird second, he is reminded of Thor during one of his good days, and the laughter mixed with the oddly comforting and nostalgic thought almost puts him at ease as his hand starts sliding off his mouth and some chuckle, only for her next words to shatter the small respite he assumed he had just gained.

“I am sure that would be lovely, Spider-Man, but I’m afraid we’d still need to have our wrestling match beforehand” she said, because of course she does, “Much like my Lasso, I am prone to let people borrow my… finest assets only if I deem them…” She gives him a hard, long look, thoughtfully checking him out, and there is enough blood still remaining somewhere that isn’t his nether regions to make Peter blush under the mask as her eyes inspected his sitting form like a piece of meat, “Worthy,” She breathes, and she is leaning over him, towering over him even with both of them sitting, and he has the decency of lean back a bit himself, but his advanced senses aren’t exactly helping because he can clearly see her and hear her and _smell_ her and wait shit she’s still talking, “Are you, Spider-man? Worthy? Of me?”

Now, here’s the problem with Spider-Man, or at least, this Spider-Man, and I know I said we weren’t going to have detours anymore this issue but honestly, we need to understand this in order to better understand how shit is going to unfold in the very real, very near sex scene that is about to unfold before our eyes, I swear it’s coming please stay:

Peter Parker is smart, intelligent, his brain processing information’s with all the speed and anxiety of someone who almost had his elderly aunt fuck Doctor Octopus and every waking hour of his life must think up contingency plans upon contingency plans to stop that from ever almost happening again.

But Spider-Man? It seemed the spider bite had left some major factory defect on Spider-Man for, much like a modern day Paris, as he, blinded by the prospect of hot women and goddesses and passionate love, plunges the classical world into a 10 years long war like some third rate himbo, the second the blood starts going to his dick, his brain comes to a short, stuttering, terrible halt.

“Oh god I hope so,” he breaths, and that’s when the dam breaks.

With the brain now KO, without not having anything to filter information between his dick and his mouth anymore, Peter has instantly passed from being almost nonverbal in the previous seconds and battling with his inner thoughts on the most appropriate approach to the situation, to talking a mile a minute.

“So, what do we do now? so how’s the rules, we win if we pin the other on the ground for three seconds? Submission? Knockout? I mean, I know you’re a knock out I mean if one knocks out the other? That’d be kinda bad if you ask me, I’d like not to have a concussion when we’re doing it- hold on, you said we had to do it naked right, We get naked right? Yeah, we get naked, one second this thing has never been the easiest to- “

She shushes him with a finger on his mask covered mouth, a bemused smile on her face, stopping his frantic grabs at his suit as he had apparently forgot how to take it off.

“Wins the first that makes the other submit” she starts explain, finger still on his covered mouth, and even the lens of his mask are getting cross eyed as he gawks at it, “One of us requests if the other is willing to submit and the other must give their consent in submitting… unless, of course you’d be more comfortable with fancier practices like a safe-word? In case you’d like one of us of being in a scenario of begging the other to stop and the other keep going no matter what?” she says, and damn his senses because his ears just picked out how her breathing has just got more labored, his eyes and lens snapping from her finger to her collarbone and neck and face and how flushed she is and how wide her open mouthed smile is.

“How about Goblin? If we want the other to stop, really stop, we say Goblin” he says, remembering his own old safe-word he used to use with-

He doesn’t even have the time to remember exactly the last time he had someone use a safe-word with him, and had he been able to probably this story would have been a lot shorter, because apparently that’s enough talk about boundaries for the Amazon princess as she grabs his spider-suit, right at the chest, and pulls him towards her, a embarrassingly not so manly yelp escaping his mouth in the process.

“Let me help you out of that.”

She throws him on the centre of the roof, but keeps the suit firmly in her grasp, and for some weird, impossible trick of momentum and strength, she literally tears the suit off him, now shreds in her hands. The air hits him mid throw and gives him enough clarity to rebalance himself mid-air, landing on a crouch shortly after, his spider-sense, that horny traitor, nowhere in sight to warn him.

The few tatters of his suit have thankfully been the miraculously untouched “boots” of his costume, the gloves, with their web-slinger on the wrists (The sturdiest part of his costume, yet already strained by Diana’s surgical precision in her throw and ready to break, a metaphor for his resolve), and, thankfully, the upper part of his mask, miraculously intact, as was his secret identity even to this stranger from another world, but missing most of the lower parts, the ones still covering his mouth and cheeks.

Not for the first time in his life when it comes to a hot woman, a New York roof, and the prospect of a fight and/or some good old-fashioned sex, Peter didn’t know if bless or curse the fact he always decided to go commando under the suit.

She gives him another appreciating look, and if he didn’t feel like a piece of meat before he sure as hell feels like one now.

The spider bite might have stopped his growth at around the meter and sixty centimeters, a fact he never really managed to understand or rationally explain, but it sure was generous on other departments.

For one thing, it gave him abs.

Not Captain America or Captain Marvel levels of Abs, obviously, both sets he had the privilege and honor of witnessing first hand, but, unlike his previous, scrawny nerd physique, he was now fairly in shape, some loose muscles filling his once weak body, but not falling into some crass ostentation of power and muscle mass, despite his own incredible strength, speed and, most importantly, stamina, he was now more built like a swimmer than a body builder.

He rose up, toned, slightly defined stomach and pecks in full view, nipples hardening at the air of New York night, pale skin flushed, body heat and adrenaline thankfully keeping him warm enough in the mild night air. The lack of body hair sure didn’t help, another side effect of the spider bite, a small price to pay for his incredible gripping abilities, his legs, arms, chest, how whole body bare, the skin smooth, yet ready to become as sticky as possible at a moment notice, allowing him to reach impossible angles and places.

But his most drastic changes, he has always assumed, must have been his cock, balls and ass.

Now, Peter never considered himself a small man, before the spider bite. His cock sure wasn’t the biggest, but it was… normal sized. Maybe. He never really had the time to put it in action before the bite really, which meant that, for him, one day he had a perfectly normal dick, and the next day after a whole night of fever and nightmares in his bed because some kinky spider decided to bite him there, he woke up not needing glasses anymore, and yet having to take a double take at his hairless, heavy, almost swollen balls, something he was always amazed had never acquired a personal gravity pull by how round and big they ended up getting, much like he did for Felicia’s own rack from time to time, and a leaking hard on reaching right above his navel.

Amazement and befuddlement soon gave way to scientific curiosity and horniness, as he tentatively started inspecting his new apparatus, one hand palping his now full balls, checking for eventual lumps that shouldn’t be there but mostly because it felt pretty nice, actually, and spitting on the other before going to his dick proper, grasping it firmly in his hand as he gave it some tentative strokes.

The “experiment” was short lived. As it turned out, the spider bite had made him produce overnight copious amounts of “venomous” sperm, for a lack of a better word, which now ended up getting stored in his balls, “venom” that apparently needed immediate release after the night that one fateful morning as he and is probably now traumatized high school mirror discovered shortly after his few tentative strokes of his new dick.

Peter still remembers the nightmare of having to explain that to uncle Ben, and the absolute nightmare that was his existence afterwards due to the new, special conditions of his cock and balls, and the ways he found to capitalize on that, but this a reveal for another time.

Getting back on his new, spider-assets, Peter’s Ass.

Almost concurrently, Peter’s ass decided he had to outdo the cock in the growth department. From the flat, skinny ass of his youth, now he had a full, plump, bouncy rump. He couldn’t really blame his own spider bite this time, it appeared most other spider people did end up getting Thicker asses with their spider powers, so that was just Spiders, in general, being into that. He could see the appeal in that of course, so he could understand why they’d be into that, he himself did, in the confines of his own home, where no one could watch him, sometimes slapped his own ass, not really for any sexual reason just to hear and feel the _bounce_.

So, here he was, a thick assed, built like a swimmer spider powered short king, his costume in tatters and his full body exposed, as he was trying his best to put on a semblance of a defensive stance despite the visibly hard uncut dick sporting an hard on that has been going steady in his suit since the word “wrestling” has been involved in the conversation, pathetically punching at his chest, begging for release, as the still armored, incredibly jacked amazon princess from a different universe kept leering at him from the other end of the roof, as if he she was the starving wolf and him the juicy young lamb.

All in all, just another Tuesday for our favorite friendly neighborhood spider-man.

“See something you like?” He says, the prospect for the impending fight finally giving him enough clarity to put him on his standard setting when it comes to fighting, friendly and slightly annoying banter.

“I must say, Spider-Man” she starts, her tongue licking her lips in anticipation, “You sure hide some terrifying weapons beneath all that spandex”

“It’s a super-polymer” he replies back, almost mechanically, and gives her a shake of his head “What about you, princess? I’ve shown you mine but what about yours?”

“Getting cocky now, little man?” She says, slipping in an easy back and forth with him, “And I that I thought you where just going to kneel before me and graciously accept defeat. All the better, this will be much more interesting once I conquer you.”

Then, to Peter’s befuddlement, she began spinning in place, fast, almost too fast for Peter to track with his eyes, a whirlwind of movement that ended surprisingly soon, and with the loss of movement, so her armor seemed lost too, hidden somewhere Peter didn’t want to think too hard about, revealing the amazon in all her buff, naked glory.

“Neat trick,” he says, a tad impressed, but mostly as an attempt to hide how his brain was still trying to process the existence of a naked amazon a few meters away from him, “You must be fun at parties.”

“You must be fun at orgies” she shoots back, making him stutter as she gives him another appreciating look, something he is giving her back himself.

He was right in his original assumption, she did have impressive abs, defined and sculpted by the gods themselves he assumed. She smirked at his obvious leer and stretched a little, so to better giving him view of her assets, her plump, abundant breasts with their darkened nipples, her tan skin, the strong shoulders and arms, the trimmed bush of hair resting above her plump pussy lips, her strong, muscled legs ready to shatter his head like a watermelon… He couldn’t help but gulp, his mouth suddenly very dry, licking his lips unconsciously.

She was still wearing her gauntlets, as well as her tiara and open sandals, with her Lasso tied across her belly, in lieu of a belt. He must assume she is doing it as a gesture to him still wearing the respective garments from his suit, with the lasso symbolizing his own webs, but she probably just did so because she didn’t want to have her naked feet pressing against the dirty rooftop floor.

The thought of Wonder Woman’s naked feet being pressed against anything almost derails his train of thoughts toward dangerous territory but thankfully Diana manages to get back his attention just in time.

“Don’t worry, little man, I’ll try not to damage you too much” She says, far too alluringly for someone standing, proudly naked, at the edge of a fortunately tall enough rooftop she wasn’t going to flash any pedestrians happening to look up from the street below, “I want everything in working order when I’m done with you and you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

“Or maybe you’ll be the one begging for my cock when this night is over, how about that princess?” He retorts, mostly as bravado, a habit from years of quip throwing during crime fighting, but for a moment his brain is suddenly overloaded with the prospect of things swinging his way and that actually being the outcome of the night, and it’s a dark, terrible moment where his resolve hardens, as if this was a videogame, and the sidequest he was currently engaged in had suddenly changed its objective from the easy “Job the fight and enjoy the rest of the night with the beautiful giant warrior woman taking control of you” to a far more difficult and life threatening “win the fight at all costs and enjoy the spoils of your hard labor however you see fit, however she might desire.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want this to be too easy for me,” She says as she grins at him, challengingly, almost sensing the change in his determination as she too drops in a fighting pose, fists held high, ready to throw down with him.

“Any last-minute conditions, Spider-Man?”

“The mask stays ON for the whole night. The rest is fair game.” He claims, not even having to think about it, and Diana’s eyebrow shoot up in surprise at that, and he can tell she wasn’t expecting this answer.

“Really? Are you truly ready to submit to every terrible delight and exquisite pain I, as the princess of the Amazons, will oh so gladly inflict on you?” She asks with a inquisitive tone, eyes glimmering in the night.

“Maybe don’t kill or maim me?” He adds, almost sheepishly, “I don’t really know what to tell you princess, can’t really think of anything I wouldn’t want you to do to me.”

She gives loud, delighted laugh at that, a bright, full toothed smile coming with it “And I that I thought you’d be so boringly vanilla, even despite our current predicament, but it seems this universe’s man’s world managed to produce at least one interesting specimen,” She almost purrs that, “Oh the things I’ll do to you, little man.”

“Enough chit chat, Princess” he states, with the finality of a black widow fucking her next target at her late fourth’s husband funeral, “Let’s start this before I can actually think up an excuse why wrestling you is a incredibly bad idea.”

“Couldn’t agree more, little man,” She states, and she crosses the distance between them within seconds.

Long strides allow her to reach her opponent, throwing a punch right at his masked face. She tries to measure the blow, not wanting to inflict on her potential new lover any permanent damage, but he dodges in a fluid move, his body dropping below and to the right, and capitalizes on her miss by throwing his own punch, right at her own stomach.

Her own divine strength, along with the veritable armor of abs, as well as what she assumes was her same restraint on Spider-Man’s part, manage to cushion much of the blow’s pain, but it still hurts, and it still stuns her for a second.

Wanting to capitalize on his starting advantage, Spider-Man manages to unleash a couple of quick jabs against wonder woman’s stomach, leaping away with a backward flip before she could react and grab at him from his lowered position.

She chases after him with her own leap, managing to grab him mid air by a foot and throwing him on the ground. He grunts in pain at the impact, but then his spider-sense goes crazy and he has barely time to roll away from there before Diana manages to land on the place where he was supposed to be a second ago, knee scrapping against the rooftop.

He swiftly gets back on his feet, and he can tell, as she does the same, that that knee had just hit the place where his groin used to be.

“Fuck, princess, you weren’t joking when you said you were going to do nasty things to me.” He says, and he doesn’t know if he should now be terrified or horny as he circles her on the roof, “I can see that for you amazons, lust and bloodlust must go hand in hand”

“You were the one that agreed to it, little man,” she retorts, circling him back, eyes alight with the thrill of the ensuing fight “As the great poet Sappho once said, you made your bed, now you’ll have to lie in it!” She yells as she throws herself at him, arms outstretched for a grab, and he attempts another quick dodge, only for her to intercept his movements, grabbing him by his armpits.

She lifts him like he was a pair of wet grapes, high in the hair, and then slams him on the ground once again. The breath is knocked out of him as his back hits the ground, thankfully not hitting his head on the hard concrete.

The spider-sense doesn’t have enough time to warn him this time as her foot, still encased in her open sandal boot, crashed against his chest, saliva escaping his mouth as he yelps in pain.

“Just thank me I didn’t aim at your… weapon,” She mocks him, pushing with her feet on the hero’s chest and applying pressure against him.

“This time”

He hastily grabs her leg, throwing her off him with a push as she clumsily falls on the on the nearby ground. Now both laying on it, he flips, rapidly crawling on top of her. His hands grab her wrists and hold them on top her head, legs locked right around her inner tights. He’s breathing hard, and this is the most he has managed to get in contact with her all night.

“And so, the cocky little spider thinks he has found himself a prey.” She states, the epitome of confidence, a mocking smile right at him from beneath him, “But who has caught who I wonder.”

She spreads her legs, breaking his hold on her with his own, and locks them around him. He almost falters off but manages to keep his hold on her arms and to keep her beneath him, passing now on a kneeling position on the ground. She squeezes with her thighs, stealing the breath off him as he groans in pain, his muscles straining against the powerful woman’s strength.

He realizes now that in the position they are now in, his cock is currently being tantalizingly close to her pussy. Her tight hold on him doesn’t actually allow him to penetrate her, as his cock is currently being crushed against his own abdomen by her own core, something Diana must have also noticed as she starts gyrating her hips and her moist pussy, the movement however not giving him enough friction to properly enjoy it, her teasing getting more and more frustrating on his part.

“Already wet, aren’t you?” He grunts, and the only thing he can do now is tighten his hold on her wrists, still pushing against him to get free, trying not to give away that modicum of control he had on her.

“I’ve been wet ever since we’ve fought that masked criminal earlier this night” She reveals, an alluring smile on her face as she keeps her slow torture on his crushed abdomen and his trapped cock.

“You were wet while fighting the Shocker?!” He yells, shocked, and the sudden and unexpected news is enough to have him falter his hold on her wrists.

Diana capitalizes on his shock, applying enough pressure to start raising from her laying position, overpowering Spider-Man. Her arms sneaked off his wrists, managing to clasp his own hands, each finger going between each of his fingers, as she pushed him back on his ass from his kneeling position.

Now sitting awkwardly, his knees tucked inward as he sat on them, with her sitting on top of his in turn. Her legs loosened her hold on his abdomen, but not too much, as she made herself comfortable on top of his. Her hips and moist pussy where now crushing his plump balls, protruding off his locked legs so not to get crushed between them alongside his cock, once again trapped between the two contenders’ hard bodies.

She has to look down on him due to the difference in height, a thing he is sure she is delighting in as he has to raise his head in order to look her in the eyes, his own glare of defiance severely undercut both by his needy and now neglected cock pathetically standing between them, the evident discomfort and pain a statuesque woman sitting on his balls was having on him, and the look of triumph on the Amazon’s face.

“You think you’ve already won, princess?” He spits back,

“Call me princess all you want…” she grunts, ecstatic and almost maniacal “But Athena as my witness I know that by the end of the night, you’ll start calling me Mistress!”

“Or maybe I’ll just call you Slut” he spits back, more false bravado than conviction as he felt his chances of victory slipping by.

She shudders, now starting to rock her hips against his balls, “Gods I love when men call me that, makes it even more enjoyable when I fuck them for good and leave them with the balls empty and their cock and ass broken,”

The mention of his cock and ass getting broken beyond repair, something he had never thought about as a possibility for the night till now, manages to rouse Peter from his momentary defeat. With herculean strength, he manages to slowly begin rising from his sitting position, Diana’s legs tightening, almost on instinct, against his abdomen once again in the process. Her cocky smile of victory starts morphing into an alarmed one as she attempts to overpower him once again, failing as he manages to stand to his full height while still carrying the twice his size superpowered woman on top of him.

The awkward position high in the hair unbalances Diana, enough to prompt Spider-Man to give one final push against her, making her fall gracelessly on the ground in a yelp as her leg lock on his body falters.

Instead of going for the kill again, he takes another leap back, trying to regain his breath after the previous bouts against the amazon’s, giving however time to Diana to get her bearings and get back on her feet.

With little warning, she crosses the distance between them with long strides. Not having time to dodge this time, she crashes against him, and he is once again remained of how short he is compared to her as she clashes against him him, his head barely reaching beneath her boob level. She tries to grapple him, but he’s swift and his skin has the natural ability to stick to surfaces, so he manages to position his arms in time to stop her, deflecting her attempt of grabbing him by his armpits and raise him above her.

She recovers quickly, deflected arms now crashing down on his shoulders, trying to overpower him with her height and strength, as his own arms desperately push back against her hold, both the heroes’ stance wide, their feet solidly on the ground as they try each to unbalance the other.

Diana’s strength might be of divine origin, but Peter’s strength is nothing to scoff at either, as the two struggle for an opening so to overpower the other.

“Having fun little man?” She grunts, her cocky grin clashing with the exertion now evident on her face as sweat starts forming on her frowned brow. “want to give up yet?”

“Nope” he says, concise as he has never been, and he blesses his mask covering just how much of a toll the clash was having on him. His frame and abilities were less suited to a war of attrition than her opponent’s, a thought that must have crossed his opponent mind as she winked at him, growing cockier by the second as he started faltering in his stance.

He needed to find a solution to this stalemate getting dangerously close to his defeat, and fast.

“No use fighting little man” She says, and he can almost feel the roof cracking beneath his feet as she keeps trying to overpower him. He can see her licking her lips, almost savoring his incoming defeat, and all that might entail “You and I can both see which one of us is stronger. Now, just give up, and let Mistress Diana handle the rest”

“In your dreams, Princess” he says, but he’s getting desperate. He can’t shake her off with force alone, but force has never been his only way to handle fights.

He gives in, ceasing all strength on her, but it’s too sudden and too unexpected for the amazon to capitalize on that. Now unbalanced, Wonder Woman almost falls on top of him with a surprised sound, but he manages to weasel his way out from her, passing trough the rapidly descending arch of her spread legs and squishing his way behind her, getting a closer peak at her exposed pussy, right from below.

“Fuck me for not installing cameras in the eye-lens” He curses under his breath, not for the first time in the night, as he swiftly repositions himself to face the amazon. She has managed to stop herself from gracelessly falling on the floor, her strong arms holding her in, her muscled back to him, and he cannot allow her to get back up again, so he leaps on top of her, dropping on her prone form. His small frame, while not particularly heavy, especially for the strong amazon warrior, manages however to knock her off her balance, now falling face first on the concrete below, barely making a dent on her.

He swiftly grabs her hands, in the precious second, she must regain her bearings, and forcefully brings them behind her back as he sits on them, legs firmly locking against her sides as he could feel her clenched fists right beneath his taint. With Wonder Woman now in such an awkward position, he has stopped her from unleashing her full force on him so to free herself from his hold.

“You crafty little bitch” she grunts in frustration, chin pressed against the concrete as she manages to slither her face off the floor. She huffs, mostly to remove a strand of hair that had escaped her tiara and come to hinder her vision.

“Been called worse” he shots back, finally with the upper hand since the night started. He lowers himself on her back, cock nicely positioning themselves between the Amazon muscled arms and scrapping against her lower back, balls grazing her contorted arms as he starts sliding down her back, cock slithering between her trapped arms till it reached her hands and pushing, his face now finally face level with hers as he attempted to whisper in his ear despite the awkward position, as his hands kept pushing down on her shoulders.

“Now, you must be uncomfortable, so how about you become a good little princess for me and let daddy long dick here-” he says, but he can’t continue with his proposal as she headbutts him from behind. This, unfortunately for Peter, manages to unbalance him long enough for Wonder Woman to regain the upper hand. She squeezes his balls, now exposed to her hands, hard and for good measure, which manages to weaken his hold on her. She raises from her prone position, thanks to the strength of her abs, without even using her hands, as she manages to buckle him off her like a wild mare would a cocky cowboy. This time Peter doesn’t have enough momentum nor flight length to reposition himself, as he unceremoniously falls on his ass, as the now freed amazon, in an almost inhuman feat of strength and grace, managed to rotate her arms back on top of the roof’s floor, and use them to pressure herself up.

Her back is still to him, so he manages once again to jump her back. But she is waiting for him now, not allowing him to unbalance her anymore as she stands her ground. Understanding that he cannot attempt the same process a second time and fearing an eventual retaliation if he didn’t act soon enough, Peter manages to swiftly grip at her from behind, his naturally sticky body managing to naturally grip the Amazon Warrior’s back.

Almost dropped like a backpack on her, his face his smushed against her strong back, his closed, uncovered mouth basically kissing her muscles for him. His hands, needing to grasp the nearest surface, are oh so innocently squeezing the amazon’s voluptuous breasts, and his legs once again trying to lock around her as his cock, most importantly, was now sandwiched between the heroine’s plump and majestic butt cheeks.

He gulps, not really knowing where to go from here, finally out of ideas, as he abandons himself to the most primal reaction he could have in this situation.

“Finally stopped resisting them, uh, your filthy pig?” she mocks him, giving the hands atop her boobs some cursory slaps. His grip on her boobs tightens, and she groans a little as a result, but his hips, seemingly moving on their own, are now trying to achieve as much friction as possible as his dick keeps humping against her cheeks. He is starting to lose what little control he had left, and he knows she must have noticed.

She begins moving around the rooftop a little and stretching her tired arms a bit, seemingly unperturbed by the man currently humping against her back.

“You men are all the same, all talk about showing us our place but then when it comes down to it, you are all just slaves of your cock.” She taunts him, and he can’t see her face now, but he knows from her voice she must look like a kid at Christmas right now “In the end, you all need a strong, gentle hand showing you there are better masters to serve!”

He holds on for dear life, afraid of what might come next, but he doesn’t have to wait long as she simply drops on her ass and, coincidentally, on his ass.

He falls ass first on the concrete, and it hurts but not as much as a warrior 2 times his size also falling on top of him, using her full weight to crush his cock and balls with her soft ass. He groans, not just from pain, and his holds on her boobs falter. His cock has not penetrated anything, still getting squashed by Diana’s core. He falls with his back on the ground, and she uses this as an opportunity to grabs his still spread legs and positioned herself, so she was once again facing him.

Peter cursed his body’s natural elasticity as she easily folds his own legs, his feet now up all the way up to his shoulder, her own, strong tights mercilessly crushing him and keeping him in place as she stopped him from moving from the humiliating position.

To add insult to injury, she grabbed his arms and hold them against his own feet, and then smashed them together with them. He yelped, this time just in pain, and he heard a squishing sound as his web cartridges exploded from the immense pressure. His wrists and ankles were now trapped in a sticky prison of his own webs.

“The great Spider-Man, who fashioned himself the conqueror of Themyscira greatest warrior, now reduced as a toy for me” she mocks him, finally getting off of him, and he gulps as he realizes that now he really is at her mercy, “Such a naughty little man.”

She licks her lips, inspecting her handywork. His cock is in full display, finally free from beneath her, and standing proudly. He is laying on his back, and he is still attempting to escape, but he knows his spider-webs, he knows how strong they are, and now realizes exactly why did she let him keep them.

“You cheater” he almost whines, as he still pathetically tries the impossible. She gives a small laugh at that and gets down on her knees.

“Cheater? We never said anything about using the other’s tools to our advantage, especially when we know they are far too noble to use their themselves” She retorts, and gives a small flicker to his erect cock to punctuate that, making him yelp, “If you wanted, you could have snatched my Lasso right from under me and used it against me, wouldn’t you like all the nasty little secrets I would have told you while at your mercy?”

She gives him another appreciating look, the man now totally at her mercy, “Now, do you have enough like a good boy, or do you want to keep going, little man?”

“In your dreams, slut.” He shoots back for good measure, which only manages to deepen her enjoyment of the situation, something some depraved part of his brain knew was going to happen.

“Oh, I’m so going to enjoy breaking you,” She says as she positions herself near his head. She swings one leg across his face, her pussy and taint once again looking down on him from above, so tantalizingly close yet so far.

He starts licking his lips at the prospect of eating the amazon princess out, his mouth watering as she started rubbing his moist slit with her hands.

“First, I think we have to let the gods know who you belong to today.” She says, a shudder crossing trough her body as a golden stream shoots down her pussy, right on the trapped hero’s face. He sputters at the unexpected display, the amazon’s salty piss cascading in his eyes, face and half open mouth. She gives a small laugh, probably expecting this reaction from him as she kept releasing her bladder on him, a humiliating display temporarily blinding him as hit dampened what was left of his mask, filtering trough it on his eyes. The stream crossed down his neck and chest, pooling on the floor beneath him in his awkward position.

“Ah, I needed that” she says with some relief, before pointing her mocking gaze on the humiliated spider below.

“Aww, don’t give me that face, little man, you did say you were up to anything I would do to you, and that include receiving the honor of becoming my own personal toilet,” She taunts him, tantalizingly oscillating her pussy above him and letting the last droplets hit his face.

The sensation and the humiliation have unfortunately gotten Peter’s dick even harder if possible, and he’d like to know what that said about him as a person if a hot woman pissing on him to humiliate him was going to turn him on even more, his tongue licking his salty lips almost on instinct, but he doesn’t have time to think about it as Diana barely gives him enough time to think about getting his breath back that she crashes on top of his face, pussy squarely impacting his mouth and face, as she starts grinding on him.

“Pathetic little man,” She taunts him once again, still grinding herself on the man’s face as she suppresses a moan, eyes half lidded and biting her lower lip in a shudder, “All you’re good for is being a fresh body for a superior woman to defile, let’s see if that dirty mouth of yours knows something other than making stupid jokes. Now, lick it!”

At the order, something inside him stirs. She has temporarily stopped her grinding, her pussy directly above his mouth, and she is still smothering him, his breathing difficult with his nose directly smashed by her taint and ass, but nevertheless he manages to open his mouth and start licking. Her juices are still mingled with her piss from before, giving her a tangy taste, but he laps it up nonetheless, now finally involved in one of his favorite activities involving one of his lovers. His tongue explores, titillates, caresses the amazon’s soft lips, as he keeps suckling at her like a thirsty man at a fountain, and a fountain she might as well be by how drenched she is. She keeps whimpering, returning to gyrate her hips against him, slower and more purposely than before so not to let him lose his rhythm.

“Great Hera!” she curses, almost stutters, and her hand is now furiously rubbing her clit as the other massages one of her plump breast, still sensitive after his previous rough manhandling, “You must have had some good teachers, l-little man.”

Not wanting to think about the women responsible for teaching him how to eat pussy while pleasuring a literal goddess, Peter tries to assess his situation. His cock is still neglected, standing pathetically in front of an amazon too preoccupied with her own pleasure to notice. He discretely attempts to test his bonds, but he knows his formula enough to know his webs will still hold for too much time for him. He might attempt to keep straining at them for a while, to then strike before his opponent gets tired of him and decides for more drastic ways to have her way with him. He starts pulling with his hands, trying to untangle himself from such a vulnerable and humiliating position, but then the amazon shudders one last time before flooding his mouth with her juices, an exquisite moan coming out her mouth as she orgasms for the first time tonight.

“Good boy” she says after some time, her breathing ragged, sweat starting to finally form across her body, “Now, time for your reward.”

She lowers herself across his body, having to arch her spine due to his lower stature and starts breathing against his cock. The foreskin is still unpeeled, an impressive feat due to the quantity of cock in front of her, and she licks her lips in anticipation as she starts peeling his skin down, revealing an angry looking head, already leaking precum.

“Come on, return to your work” she says as he whines, giving a soft slap against the man’s balls for good measure, “who said you could stop?”

He gets back to it, as the amazon apparently didn’t care about her sensitive pussy after having just come, once again lapping at her, what little hair he could get still oppressed by Wonder Woman’s hips. She tightens her tights against his head, squishing it between them as she shudders at the sensation of his continued work, before returning to her own work.

She spits on her right hand and clasps the base of his dick, a slow jerking motion up and down, accompanying his skin with it. He whines, temporarily stopping in his leaking as she is finally touching his dick, but she gives him another slap to his balls with her other hand as a warning, forcing him to continue. Her other hand returns on his heavy balls, giving each another slap for good measure, causing him to get faster with his ministration, before she starts palming them, her eyes still transfixed on his leaking tip.

Her tongue darts, caressing his dick with the same pace of the slow, agonizing jerking she was giving him, her tongue only focusing on the head of his cock, gracing the underside, the tip, tasting as much precum as she could, her hand palpating and squeezing his balls first with a gentle touch, then with firmness.

The tip of her tongue starts flickering against his cock’s slit, abusing it, trying to gain passage inside, and he can’t help but moan at the weird sensation as she keeps titillating his pee hole, soft moans coming off her as he keeps sucking off her pussy for dear life. As soon as it came her tongue is gone, the hand jerking him off starts speeding up, the other one leaving his sensitive balls to replace her hand. She rubs the tip of his cock, roughly, teasing, and it hurts but it’s also pleasing, and he keeps eating her out as he waits for when she’ll finally go down on him for real as her hand’s pace keep getting faster and rougher.

He feels he is about to cum soon.

Suddenly, all sensations on his cock are gone. It stands there, pathetic and ready to burst, and she gives a mocking laugh at his failed release as his boner starts to subside.

He tries to insult her, but it’s muffled by her pussy, and the vibrations coming off him are only getting her more wet.

She unclasps her lasso, and loops the rope across his hard cock, right at the base, making a complicated knot and tightly holding it. He whines in pain and protest, muffled by her pussy, and he feels her constricting him, passing then to the base of his heavy balls, a complicated not choking away the possibility for him to cum.

“Clio’s treaties on the pleasure of the flesh are very clear,” She begins explaining, the smirk evident in her voice, as she pulls the other hand of the rope, now a makeshift leash of his cock, to test how tight it was, making him whine “Man’s pleasure should always be subordinate to our own, and we should only allow you to cum with the intent of providing us with your inferior seed so to provide us with the next generation of amazons.”

The impromptu history lesson makes Peter’s eyes widen beneath the amazon princess.

“You heard it right, little man” she says, one hand patting her hardened belly as the other keeps holding his leash, “I’m not letting you cum tonight unless you defeat me or you are ready to submit and become my personal cum dispenser for the night, your choice.”

This puts Peter in a bind, but he doesn’t have time to reflect about the implication of that before she finally rises her hips from his face, finally allowing him to take a breath of fresh hair. He is a mess, his face drenched by the amazon’s piss and cum, some minor bruises due to the weight and strength with which her tights closed on him, the way she crushed her pussy against him, and she admires her handywork with a soft smile.

“I think that’s enough foreplay, little man” she says, finally positioning herself on top of his erect, constricted cock, one hand still on his cock leash, “You might be not allowed to cum until you decide to fully submit, but don’t think I’ll pass up on the chance to use this fuck toy on myself”

She is smiling again, lowering herself on him, one leg each across his hips and trapping them between them. His cockhead graces her pussy lips and easily spears through her, the sensation of finally entering her making him moan, a twin moan of pleasure escaping the amazon’s lips as she keeps getting lower and lower with her hips.

She is tight, but it’s also easily accommodating his length, a feat none of his lovers has ever accomplished on the first try. He would assume this must be due to her divine origin and would also wonder if other goddesses in his universe must have the same feature, but he doesn’t have time for any of this as she finally reaches the base of his cock and stops moving.

The sensation of being inside her is heavenly, but he knows how better it would be if she decided to start thrusting her hips. He tries not to whine, his hips trying to buckle on instinct, his hands still trying to get themselves free from their bonds on his feet, but her hold on him with her tights is strong, preventing him to move, and she is smirking at him from above, her hands firmly pressing his shoulder against the ground.

“Do you like the favorite position of my people, Spider-Man?” Wonder Woman asks, not giving away hints about her potentially deciding to start rocking her hips, “Nothing better than the Amazon Position to show men their rightful place.”

“Please move” he almost begs, and she gives him a feral smile in response.

“Awww, if you ask me so kindly-”

And then she starts rocking. She thrusts her hips upward and then downward, her pace getting faster and faster. She takes the lasso in one hand, apparently deeming him not worthy of her full force to keep him down now and starts pulling the leash trapping his cock and balls. He whines in pain, the strain against his shaft and bruised testicles adding to the feeling of impossible release and terrible pace in which she is fucking herself with his dick.

“You might think you are fucking me,” She starts, and now he can clearly see the sweat on her body, her brow creased by exertion, her lowered eyelids as moans keep escaping her mouth, “But in truth I am the one fucking you! How does it feel, little man? To be a strong woman’s slut? How does it feel, your filthy pig?”

The lasso glow bright, adding a mild burning sensation against his cock and balls because there’s no end to the kinky as it compels him to tell the truth.

“It feels fucking fantastic,” he admits, between ragged breaths, his own stamina giving out against the Amazon’s superior physique, “God I love being your slut.”

“You love it, uh?” she goads him, getting more and more invested in it as she keeps riding him up and down, never letting him explode, “You love being my Spider-Slut? That’s what you should start calling yourself from now on, the Sextacular Spider-Slut, that’s all you’re good for!”

She keeps buckling, frantic, maniacal, the high of domination and degradation running trough her like a drug, her other hand finally abandoning his shoulder to return flickering her clit.

“Yes, take it your needy bitch, take it you Spider-Slut, that’s all you pigs are good for thaaaAAA!” Her walls clench against his cock, strangling it tightly and oppressively, another shudder of release coming trough her as she experiences her second orgasm of the night, a scream coming out the Amazon’s lips and probably waking up half New York.

He whines, the humiliating talk really doing wonders for him, and his cock is at it’s limit, but she keeps pulling at his balls, preventing his release as she starts lowering her pace, trying to catch her breath.

Fortunately for him, however, she is not the only one pulling at something.

He finally manages to get free, his feet springing up from his binds against his wrists. They spring, and the otherwise occupied, frantically fucking Wonder Woman doesn’t have time to react as he hits her square in the jaw with them. He’s unbalanced, falling on the hard ground with a yelp, his cock coming out of her pussy with a loud pop, the previous orgasm and fucking having taken a toll on her body as he finally sees his chance. He drops on her, cock and balls still tied by her lasso, and hastily flips her on her belly. He pushes her front against the ground with his elbow, her boobs, the only soft part of her hardened warrior body, squished against the concrete causing her to yelp.

“Payback’s time, Wonder Whore” he mutters darkly, and she shudders as his hard, needy dick is pressed once again against the curve of her ass. He keeps her face down with one elbow, preventing her escape as his own legs keep her own in place and spread.

She is still tired from the second orgasm, and he is frantically in need for release, so he hastily reaches down on his cock and start undoing the knots on the lasso. His own experience with web bondage and knots allows him to quickly untie himself, and before she can start fighting back, he quickly uses both his hands to grab at her hands and tie them against her back with her own lasso. She grunts in frustration, testing her bonds and failing as she tries to get free, a desperate struggle as he tries to hold her down lasting some long, excruciating seconds with his own remaining strengths until, finally, the fierce amazon princess seemingly gives up.

“Looks like my Spider-Slut got the upper hand this time.” She says, still mocking him, as she rises her face off the ground and start resting on her chin, “My lasso of truth is my greatest strength but also my only weakness, with it recognizing you as a worthy wielder and allowing you to tie me, you have effectively robbed me of my mighty strength.”

He can’t believe his ears, still holding her in case this was a trick. She tries to push back against him, but her strength, while still displayed by her physique, seems to have failed her as he easily holds her down with his own spider-strength.

“Ugh, Fine, you win, Goblin, you can do of me what you like.”

“Shame I couldn’t have a go at that ass.” She mutters, probably more at herself than him, and she emits a resigned sigh, the façade of the proud, violent amazon warrior princess giving way to a more relaxed and friendly Diana of Themyscira.

“So, what do you intend to do little man, ready to claim my pussy with your seed?” she says, and to punctuate her statement she starts wiggling her backside against Peter’s raw dick.

Peter mentally halts at that. He is horny and desperate for release, yes, but not all the Goddesses and cat burglars and super models of any world would ever stop him from being a neurotic mess at such pivotal moments in his life, especially when the prospect of becoming a father with a woman he barely knew came into the equation.

He could almost feel Diana’s eye roll from the tone of what she said next.

“Ugh, you’re just like Bruce and Clark, I barely know you and I can still hear you overthinking this from here, just fuck me and pull out.” She goads him, but she can tell it’s not enough because she knows this kind of men, she’s been fighting alongside them and fucking with them ever since world war one after all, self-sacrificing, overly neurotic idiots ready to squander happiness with the people they loved out of an apparently extra universal sense of duty and all that.

So, given her own experience in the subject, she knows exactly what to say next to get them off their funk and get back to work.

“You know Spider-Man, you can always take my ass if you are not ready to make me a mother yet.”

All of Peter’s elucubration suddenly come to an alt at the sudden and unexpected prospect of fucking a hot warrior woman’s ass.

“Of course, I’d appreciate if you could lubricate it a little first. I might be a goddess but no one like a dry aaaAAAAA- “

She screams, mostly out of surprise than anything else, as she feels something moist and slippery enter her puckered hole. It’s Spider-Man’s tongue, who apparently decided this was a good time as any to start eating her ass, his hands now on each of her round cheeks, his gloves removed as he was spreading her ass for better access.

“Could have given me a warning, you jerk” she curses him, a small whimper escaping her, “Thank Hera I am a Goddess, little man, I don’t think a normal woman would be able to handle that weapon of yours with just her juices on your cock and the saliva in their ass as lubricant!”

He keeps eating her out, relishing the new, alien taste, one of his hands sneaking down her to reach her moist and by now oversensitive pussy and starting to rub her, causing the amazon to curse in response.

“F-fuck” she curses, the stimulation starting to muddle her brain after the two orgasms she had that night, his hand quickly going from her pussy to his still moist and soaked cock, spreading her juices on it again, then returning to collect straight from the source.

After what seemed hours for her, he finally stopped eating her ass. He rose, mounting her, not even having to be on his knees as the kneeling amazons had her ass level right with his cock from his standing stance (And, for once, he blessed his spider induced small stature).

“Ready for it princess?” He warns her, cock still painfully hard and in desperate need to pop, but still wanting to be a gentleman.

“Just do it, Spider-Slut” she scoffs, ragged and on the verge of a third orgasm due to his previous furious ministrations.

“It’s Mr. Spider-Slut to you, Wonder Whore” He jokes, giving her a gentle swat on her ass, not too hard, probably as a playful warning, but mostly due to not wanting to overuse his spider-strength now that she was apparently without powers.

Nevertheless, she moans a little at the sensation.

He starts penetrating her, and she whines at the foreign sensation of something getting up her ass, proceeding slowly, what little natural lubricant they had fortunately aided both by her divine booty, his tongue spreading her hole a bit for his cock to better fit in, and her own experience with the practice.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the great amazon princess likes getting her ass stuffed like a common whore,” He points out, slowly and carefully getting inside her with way less resistance than he was expecting, “Look at you, taking half my cock already just like that, you’re a natural!”

She smirks, wriggling her ass a little with him inside, causing him to moan, “Do you really think you are the first hero I offered this challenge to? Sometimes I get their asses, sometimes they get mine,” She grunts, her ass clenching against his cock as she could feel agonizingly entering her, “Maybe next time I’ll be the one getting to play with yours, Mr. Spider-Slut.”

“Fuck, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He moans, and he finally manages to reach the bottom of her ass, his full length once again swallowed by her body, and for a second, he just enjoys the sensation of her vice like grip on him, letting her get more used to his length, “Maybe next time if you are a good girl I’ll let you.”

A low whine escapes her lips, he doesn’t know if for the fact he is finally all inside her, or for the prospect of her doing the same thing to him in revenge, and for a moment he must admit not even he knows what of the two options sound more pleasurable to him, but now, he is the one fucking her, and he must enjoy that, and let her enjoy that, to the fullest.

He starts slow, with small, shallow trusts, barely a friction, but enough to cause him some pleasure, and his hand instantly returns to her pussy and clit, rubbing her, not wanting to leave her out of the pleasure. He is breathing hard, his pace quickening, thrusting wildly inside of her, her own moans and whines, not of discomfort anymore, but of desire and pleasure, which only galvanizes our hero more, a cocky smirk on his lips at the notion he was the one causing this.

“W-who was the one ending their night with their ass broken, you filthy Anal Princess?” he mocks her, breath labored, and she can only curse at him with a grunt and a whine as her own breath comes out ragged and needy, his fingers coming from rubbing to outright penetrating her hungry pussy, two fingers coming in and out of her, her juices coating them. He briefly removes them, and she whines at the loss, but they are quickly replaced by his other hand as he brought them back to his mouth and returned sucking.

“Fuck, you taste divine!” He says, and now the pace is frenzied, half his length coming out of her only to be slammed back in, and the rough pace seems to do wonder for her as her breathing becomes more frantic, more ragged, her pussy gets more and more tight against his entrusting fingers, even her ass gets more and more clenching against his cock, and he doesn’t know how he managed to resists all this time but his cock is at its limit again.

“Ffffuck, I’m about to-“ he starts warning her, but she beats him to it as she has her third orgasm of the night, his stimulation of her pussy and the rough ass fucking apparently enough to get her over the edge for a third time, and he feels her ass clenching which really is about to bring him over the top, but with herculean will and strength he manages to pull back from her, one last time, his cock popping off her plump ass, and finally, blissfully, erupting his cum on her back and ass cheeks.

He admires his handywork as he and his lover regain their breath. Her ass is now giving him the full view of a nice, hungry gape, the widened hole contracting against nothing before slowly returning to normal size, some drops of his cum leaking down it from the pool that has become their landing spot. The amount of sperm he has produced is copious. It coats her back like a canvas, sticky white on tan brown, the viscous liquid dripping down her, sides and down her ass, some even reaching her hair, sticking against it at strands and effectively marking her for all that could see her as someone who had just gotten fucked by Spider-Man.

He knew this was going to happen. His Spider-Sperm (Patent Pending) was after something he was intimately familiar with, festering in his balls and always ready to one-man-bukkake anything he pointed his dick at, the viscous and white liquid staining surfaces and bodies alike in his eruptions, a curse in most cases, especially if he wanted to have a quick wank and discretely remove the evidence, but also a blessing in disguise, mostly due to the discovery on his part of some of his cum’s secret uses.

After all, his Spider-Sperm was indeed the key component of the formula of his new and revised spider-webs, allowing him to cut on many costs for chemical ingredients and such other things when having to brew them home, while also making them more resistant, sticky and difficult to break.

He just needed not to think too hard about it when he used them to gag the shocker with them.

Wonder Woman is breathing, still face down and ass up on the ground, apparently satisfied. The tie on her hands has come undone, but she doesn’t seem to be in any need to exact her revenge on him, so to speak, so he crawls toward her face from his position behind her.

“You ok?” He asks, slightly concerned, as he helps her up from the ground. She stumbles, still wobbly, on the pool of white cum at her feet and falls on her ass, and she laughs at that after a shocked moment.

“Gods, Spider-Man, was your cock blessed by Priapus or something?” She says, still laughing, and a dazzling smile on her lips, her bright eyes looking directly up at him.

Now, as he was seeing this, a small part of him, again symbolized by the redhead with a halo, who had apparently been guiltily masturbating through this whole scene, decides to finally come back and reminding him that he was a gentleman and he had offered her his “mastery” for the whole night, and she was an immigrant from a different world in a strange and unknown country, so he ought to give her shelter and help for the night, superhero identity be damned.

The other part of him, the one with white hair and devil horns, who had instead been masturbating this whole time to the image of the other part of him masturbating guiltily at such a wrong and wicked unsafe sex with a stranger from a different world, because if it has to be a convoluted metaphor it had to say something about his fucked up way to enjoy sexual things, decided this was the right moment to remind him that he still had a score to settle with the Amazon, and that then they could talk about giving her shelter for the night in exchange for, maybe, more sex.

She also reminded him that his bladder was still full.

A wicked smile crosses Peter’s face as he once again chooses the renegade option for the night. He grabs his now partially deflated dick and pointed it at Diana’s face.

A wicked smile, of completely different nature, appeared on Diana’s face too.

“Want to go for round four, lover boy? Fine, but as a rule I don’t do ass to mouth, so you betteeEAAAAA!” She screams, mostly in surprise and shock, as a golden stream comes out of Peter’s cock, right on the unaware amazon’s face. It hit’s her eyes, momentarily blinding her, as well as her still open mouth, and this time she is the one who has to taste her lover’s piss, sputtering in outrage as he empties her bladder on her, lowering his aim to her chest for good measure, marking her boobs too. The streams subside, and he opens his eyes with a sigh of relief, looking down at the now furious amazon.

“Wanted to show the gods who you belonged too?” He says, repeating her previous statement as he gives her a small, nervous chuckle, and maybe he has really gone too far this time, because her fury doesn’t seem to subside at his placating comment.

In a second, she is on her feet, still bathed in his piss and cum, and she is grabbing him by his armpits. He assumes this is finally the moment his cock and mouth have gotten him in more trouble than he could chew, and he watches, as she brings him face to face with her, his feet dangling off the ground as she glares at him.

He gulps, terrified for what she is going to do to him.

Then she kisses him, demanding and forceful, her tongue not so much entering as much as barging in his mouth and throat, easily submitting his tongue as she exchanged some of the piss that had gotten into her mouth with him. She tastes like… well, piss, and probably also mouth, but he can’t really focus on that because she is truly making out with him like her life depends on it.

She bits his lip, and even draws some blood, and the pain mixes with the pleasure of it as his cock starts stirring once again that night. She ends her kiss, and leaves him breathless and wanting for more, and then throws him over her shoulder, his face colliding against her cum coated back and ass, his own ass now on display over her own shoulder.

“I’m not spending another minute on this rooftop with you Spider-Man, so you either think fast of a place where we can continue the night, or I’ll have to drop you here and try to find my way home while naked and covered in your disgusting man fluids!” She commands, and her voice is demanding and hard, not admitting any argument, and his dick hardens a bit more at that.

“Fuck,” he curses, aroused, and she gives him a hard swat on his exposed ass, making his bubbly butt cheeks bounce.

“I will not repeat myself. Tell me what I want to know and MAYBE I will let you keep the control you earned this night and then squandered for some juvenile prank on me once we’re at your home” He warns him, with the finality of a Hera witnessing her husband cheat on her with a mortal and already planning on what tree curse her into for her insolence.

He gulps, and hastily gives her his address, hoping her New York will have enough similarities with his for her to understand where to go, his pathological need to keep as many people as possible from knowing his civilian identity squandered in the face of sex and helping those in need.

But mostly for sex.

With a small nod and grunt on her part, and a pleased smile he couldn’t quite see, Wonder Woman leaps off the roof and in the night sky, the two still naked superheroes heading toward Peter Parker’s home address.

Unaware of how, from a nearby roof, a hidden figure had just finished taking her last picture of Spider-Man for the night, right as the new superhero couple departed one direction, before leaving on the opposite one via the use of a harpoon gun.

A mischievous smile on the Black Cat’s face.


	2. The One with the Footjob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are set in motion.

Contrary to popular belief, Mary Jane Watson’s life wasn’t a constant party. Years spent as Spider-Man’s girlfriend, as well as the general awfulness her own private tried to force her into, tended to do that to someone. She was still the same bubbly and determined self she had been back when she had meet Peter Parker for the first time, but as more and more years and tragedies piled on her over the years, the more she found that mask uncomfortable to wear for far longer than she should, making her now prefer the spirited freedom of her youth a more subdued night life, if a still active one, a subtle balance of going out to have some fun and stay home to worry about some idiot hero deciding to go out and have some “fun.”

So, while it might come as a surprise to the most infamous gossip rags and tabloids out there, the former supermodel and actress had spent her previous Saturday night home, a quiet affair involving a sappy romantic comedy and some take away, and was now, at an hour that would be considered by any sane and rational person out there the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning, working at her laptop, a hot cup of coffee at her side, in some comfy pajama pants and an old Dazzler t shirt she got from a concert two lifetimes ago, her red hair tied in a loose knot.

She hummed, absentmindedly typing on her laptop, as she thought about the previous years.

Mary Jane’s life has had its sways and turns over the years, and she couldn’t really tell when everything had started to go awry before returning OK.

A mean part of her wanted to blame Peter, to blame the first day she saw him get off his window as Spider-Man and realized he was wearing a mask too, but she knew that part of her didn’t really mean that. Peter Parker has been a fixed point of the entirety of her life, for better or for worse, but mostly for better, and she wouldn’t have traded meeting him for anything else in the world.

Yet, she knew that life with him was difficult, far too difficult even fore her, as proven by their breakup last year. She couldn’t even remember why they broke up, her memories fuzzy, maybe another fat man had sat on him stopping him to get in time for a date, maybe her aunt was revealed to actually be a evil CIA android all along, maybe some other crazy shit, or maybe it was just some dark, evil force, conspiring against them at every turn, not wanting them to be together, she didn’t even know the reason why. But she knew that they had broken up, and she was now single, and exactly what happened shortly after their breakup.

One Hollywood producer, a big shot at that, had contacted her, a couple months after the breakup, offering her an audition for some big role, nothing to specific, but she wasn’t getting any younger and she knew how the industry treated older actresses, and needed some big break soon and couldn’t go on with roles in direct to video B-movies and sexploitation pieces, so she accepted to meet him, at least to see what to expect.

What she didn’t expect, was to be invited to his hotel lounge by a fat, greasy man, and expected to sleep with him in his outdoor pool just to get the role. She suspected his intention weren’t going to be as honorable as a younger, more naive actress would, but he was a big name in the industry, there was no way he was about to ask her something like that so soon, without even the prospect of him not going back on his words.

She tries to storm off his room in a huff, telling him to go to hell, and he attempts a grab at her, but she is Mary Jane Watson which means she has had attempts made on her life on the triple digits ever since she has been living with her violent and abusive father, which kind of force a girl to take at least a modicum of self-defense classes, so she reacts on instinct in a completely understandable and rational manner and ends up breaking his arm before leaving him there, agonizing on the floor.

There is a court trial, and the media circus that follows obviously, and while she does win it, her reputation in the industry is killed. She starts receiving death threats, and while the internet support is massive, especially in the wake of the #Metoo movement, there is also as frequent and loud attacks on her, or worse, apparent defenses of her actions that are actually disguised attacks on other victims that, unlike her, couldn’t defend themselves, which she feels are probably the most infuriating of them all.

Peter is beside her for the entirety of the trial and what follows. He does knows two of the best lawyers in New York, only one of whom green, and he does try to help her, even despite their relatively recent break up, and she feels like shit for it because he is there and she is there and she likes him but she knows she can’t go on with it yet and can’t force him to wait for her yet here he was saving her without even having to ask him.

So, they don’t get back together, and eventually the mess settles down, but it has practically blacklisted her off most studios, her modeling career going with it, and she is desperate, so what can an almost 30 years old woman with a miscarriage, plenty of fuck ups and a failed marriage behind her, yet still sporting a perfect, supermodel bod and natural red hair, do to make ends meet?

Obviously, she becomes an Instagram model.

It starts slow, but it gets traction quickly, and while she might be not as young as most other E-Girls out there she is moderately famous already, especially due to the recent scandal, and people should never underestimate how much men are willing some random actress on the internet just for a picture of her feet. She sets up a Patreon and ends up making way more money than she was getting back when she was a legit model, ironically enough, but the hatred is getting worse because if there is one thing society hates more than actual sex workers are “sex workers,” especially those who manage to get large influx of cash without even having to show someone their pussy, let alone get fucked.

She isn’t as scared as other people would be of course, no random internet troll will ever be as scary as a tenth of what happened to her over the years, but she isn’t carefree about any of this either, her complaints on twitter, Instagram, any kind of management due to the harassment campaigns falling on deaf hears.

Things get worse after she decides to speak up for Mutant rights in a video, Youtube channel being the logical next step in her new career plan. She hadn’t exactly become an ASMR artist whispering how clean someone’s ears were with a neckline down to her belly button, but she still needs a place to post sponsored or requested videos, as well as VLOGs to act as news for her Patreon or Instagram profile. Then, the police fatally shoots a unharmed 16 years old black kid who happens to also have crow feathers growing from his arms, kid couldn’t even use them to fly, and she posts a video speaking against that, the police, and Mutant prejudice as well as general prejudice, and not even a day passes that 6 Rantsonas cross their arms and publish 3 hours long essays against her, another mess she doubles down on because some dick drawing himself like a knight armor in a tuxedo with their arms crossed will NOT make her back down from this, not after all the shit she has been going through her life and all the causes she had championed in her youth back when she was a simple frees spirited college student going to feminist rallies and getting tea gassed by the police, so the hatred grows larger and the support grows even larger because there is no publicity like bad publicity.

Still, it’s not all sunshine and death threats. At some point one of those internet trolls becomes an actual concern to her, managing to hire some mid-level supervillain hacker penetrate in her computer and steal her sex tapes from it. It’s the “classy”, old stuff, back from when she was still together with Peter, back before the Civil War that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back, the photos he made of her and the old VHSes she had converted to dvd and then put on her computer, a copy still with Peter, and she was keeping them mostly for sentimental value but also for a little of personal use, but it’s still a great breach of her privacy.

Thankfully they didn’t get to some of the more… superhuman videos or photos, but still pretty darn kinky, especially since one of them did involve his webs and her being tied up, and she hates that, she hates that someone got a hold of her treasured memories, she hates that they were circulating among perverts, n porn sites, that not all of the sites brought them down after she revealed they were stolen from her, that the legal trouble from this would have been ultimately pointless anyway due to the lawless state of the internet, she hates what this did to her, to Peter…

It isn’t Peter the one “saving” her this time. He doesn’t exactly agree with her new choice of work, and is of course supporting her even if his own reputation is at stake, exposing himself once more as the inventor of the spider formula, “testing” it with his then girlfriend for safety purposes, but they aren’t dating anymore, and even back then he never really controlled her, even when they discussed whatever or not she should have taken up nude modeling to pay their bills, she always made her own choices, even when those choices aligned or didn’t align with his, and he is respecting that even now, but she can’t ask him to go there and punch some nameless dudes on anonymous image boards just for threatening to rape her or calling her a slut for having his boyfriend film her while she gives him a blowjob.

She shivers at the memories of those days, mostly out of melancholy for what she lost and what strangers took from her, but she is grateful of one thing, among all that mess.

That, among all that hate and shit they threw at her, she managed to find a new, old friend, as well as roommate, potential bodyguard and occasional fuck buddy.

A certain reckless cat who had apparently decided not to come home last night, something far too common in the last recent for Mary Jane’s tastes, conditioned as she was to worry, even if just a little, for the costumed morons that seemed to constellate her life when they were out there, saving the world, or in this case probably robbing it, and left her alone at their house to worry.

As if on cue, she can the nearby window slide open.

Their shared income (most of which legal and only half of it obtained by receiving generous donations from weird dudes online asking her to share pictures of her armpits to them for a generous amount of money) allows them to get a fancy apartment, right in the good part of town, their furniture new and their food always healthy, and she always felt bad about it, deep inside her. She knew she liked fancy and expansive things, but she also knew the dire financial situation Peter was in, and she knew of his pride not letting her or any of his friends ever help him financially, which always made her feel a bit guilty, if just a little, of living a life of relative luxury.

Still, fancy apartments, especially ones at a particularly high level, tend to have all the rage when it comes to security system, this one even furnished with some top notch alarm and window lock, making it virtually impossible for anyone to break in without basically getting blasted away from the alarm soundwave, the police already below the building, if they managed to break in at all, which was also a long shot.

All of this to say, that Mary Jane didn’t automatically go for the baseball bat she was keeping safely at her side in case some stray supervillain decided to pay her a visit (again), because she knew of exactly one woman who had the skill of entering their home undisturbed and without raising any alarm.

The one who had paid for said alarm in the first place.

“Honey, I’m hoooome!” The Black Cat, Felicia Hardy, enthusiastically greets her, giddy like she has never seen her before, and she breaths out a sigh of relief she didn’t know she was holding all night.

Odd pairing, they were, or maybe not so odd. They obviously knew each other, Felicia was really close to her, back when she was still Peter Parker’s steady girlfriend, almost his wife, and they ended up striking a odd, yet surprisingly strong friendship of sort, not just based on the fact they had both fucked the same man, but on something deeper too. She was there for her during her pregnancy, as well as she was there when she lost the baby, just like Peter was, in that hell of a horror that was the Clone Saga, a mess from start to finish, ripe with grief and deaths and clones, and she was there for her, for both of them, and she has always been grateful to her for that.

Then some other bullshit happened, they lost contact with each other, Peter got possessed by one of his villains for an entire year, the bastard almost raped her pretending to be him, but he also punched Felicia, hard, breaking her nose and teeth, and sold her out to the police, which snapped something in Felicia, something that got broken along her tooth and her nose and that she spent time and patience to fix, slowly, to get back to a better place mentally, where she is now, where she was, a couple months ago, when the shit hit the fan once again for Mary Jane, and she, once again, ended up being there for her.

Felicia had shown up, one night, on her balcony door. She almost got clobbered and had to give unquestionable truth of her identity and wasn’t some shapeshifter or Skrull Chaos Agent before MJ even thought about letting the stray cat in (Just because she might be paranoid it doesn’t mean the world wasn’t out there to get her). She had heard about her predicament, not from Peter, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into this mess, didn’t want to expose her even more to other people, but from some third rate gossip tabloid, and she had come offering her assistance, both as her bodyguard from the harassment in case it escalated into more (“You might be a tough girl Red but I think even tough girl like you need all the luck they can get in this awful world, and that’s what I’m here for”) and as her… fixer, for this mess she was currently in, for a price of course.

The price being a symbolical donation of 10 dollars to a local cat shelter. Felicia would have done it for free, but she had an image to maintain.

One of Felicia’s friends, a skilled hacker and gadget maker (“It’s technically Deadpool’s tech guy, really, but dude is currently out of job after Deadpool locked him in a sensory deprivation chamber and left him to die in Vegas so now he gladly works for me. Didn’t even have to blow him to convince him, just how lucky can a girl get?”) had apparently scourged the internet of her sex tapes, down to the very servers and personal computers of the ones who circulated them or downloaded them, Felicia later on paying a “personal visit” at the very first one who got a hold of the videos, as well as the hacker who helped them.

She didn’t kill them, of course. It’s also true they both started suffering a series of painful, one in a million chances accidents from that day, one more amusing than the other. Or at least so Felicia tells her, Mary Jane just wanted to forget this whole mess and get on with her life, not caring about what some sad little men might say against her.

Peter, of course, didn’t know about this, or if he did know, he tried to comment on it, least his own moral compass waver at the justified yet illegal actions his ex-girlfriend did to protect his other ex-girlfriend.

Still, Felicia had given her some great help, and she had been grateful for her, their old friendship flaring into something new from that day onward, culminating with Felicia proposal to get an apartment together, splitting bills and grocery and all that, filled with all the latest defense systems on the black market, so to better protect her, all great incentive to accept her proposal and have her back into her life again, not having realized till now how much she missed their friendship.

The great sex was also a big plus.

Mary Jane had always known Felicia was Bisexual, obviously. The Cat Burglar has never been shy about it, or has never been shy about anything in her life really, they were much alike in that aspect, and MJ did have some confused flings, back in the wilder years of her youth, but she had never really tried to put a label on it back then. Now, at the ripe old age of almost 30, Mary Jane can safely say that she’s a straight as a noodle.

So, in layman terms, “straight” until something ends up making her wet. And Felicia tended to make her very wet.

She chuckles at her own lame joke, her mind briefly wondering about how Peter would have probably liked it, and looks up from her work to Felicia, now in her kitchen. She is feeding her many cats, which she insisted to bring from her old apartment and are now the countless other roommates she shares a living space with, and she is hunched down to pet one of them, still in her stupidly tight catsuit, still jittery as hell but waiting for her to finish her work, or waiting for her input before telling her what got her so excited.

Now, Mary Jane and Felicia weren’t exactly together together. They were still seeing other people (“Mostly Felicia…” Mary Jane sometimes thought, with just a twinge of jealousy and perhaps some envy), and they weren’t officially girlfriends, but they did have their fun together, and she was still someone very close to her, for better and for worse.

“Just two gals being pals” Mary Jane thought with a hidden smile, remembering the title one particularly bad gossip rag sported after a paparazzo managed to capture a photo of her and Felicia kissing at a gay bar, a place where Felicia had dragged her after entire weeks she spent like a hermit in their apartment after the last media blowout, not wanting to face the world alone yet, just to have fun together, fun which they did have, in the cramped and awkwardly crowded bathroom of the place of course.

On a side note, Mary Jane finally knew who to thank for refining Peter’s oral skills after she had given him her own private lessons to him on the subject.

Mary Jane has gotten pretty good at reading people over the years, and she can tell, just by how… restless her friend seems to be, even as she is surrounded by her cats as they feed and she’s petting them, all jittery and jumpy, and she can tell she must not have slept at all that night, and was dying to tell her just why.

“I know you want to tell me something, just shoot.” Mary Jane finally caves, still working on the last finishing touch of her new video before starting to upload it on Youtube, “Is this about the new cat you brought in last night? Because if it’s about the new cat I already know about him, that thing is evil it’s been glaring at me all morning.”

The “thing”, a black tabby with a red collar and a fresh new ribbon on his tail, glares murder at her from across the room, as if he has understood her, before purring softly as Felicia starts petting him defensively.

“Dexter isn’t evil Red, he’s the best boy someone can ask for, isn’t that right Dexter?” She says as she coos the monster, his soft purrs turning into almost a whine of protest before dying down, the Cat falling on his belly, content from the scratches “See Red, he’s harmless.”

“You’re absolutely sure you can’t talk to cats?” Mary Jane teases her, a smirk on her lips, eyes gleaming with mirth.

“No, but I can talk to pussies alright,” She shoots back before raising from her spot hunched on the ground and sauntering to her. Her hips are swaying, and Mary Jane can’t help but swallow at the sight, her lover’s body trapped in the confines of leather as she simply gets up to her, holds her chin in her hand, and simply dips down to give her a morning kiss, soft and gentle, so unlike her in both her life and in bed, before breaking, a wide smile on Mary Jane’s lips, mirrored by Felicia.

“Hello, stranger,” Felicia greets her, a second, small kiss on Mary Jane’s brow as she steals her still half-filled mug of coffee and sits at another seat of the kitchen table, “How’s it going, had fun without me last night?”

Mary Jane sighs, both at the loss of contact and the evasive question, deflecting her curiosity at what had gotten her so pumped up, quickly finishing to upload her video to Youtube before looking back at her, “Oh, you know, I was the life of the party. Watched some cheesy hallmark movie about love, drunk some hot chocolate, went to sleep at 11 pm like a good girl, and now I’m just uploading this video some weirdo asked me to do, wanted me to go buy large quantities of Wonder Bread at a grocery store in a fancy dress and film myself doing it- went to one halfway through the city from here don’t worry I’m not revealing our new address like a moron by highlighting where we buy groceries- Super weird request if you ask me but apparently it’s all the rage now, people paying other people to have fancy dressed women buy Wonder Bread, maybe it’s a marketing stunt or something.”

Felicia, bless her soul, is listening to her intently, but she can tell, no matter how much she might try to hide it, that she really want to spill the beans to her, whatever they might be, so, with a sigh, preparing herself for whatever new tale of her girlfriend debauchery or larceny she was about to be a witness to, and asks, “So, what about you, had a fun night?”

Felicia nods, a toothy smile on her face, before telling her the news.

“You’ll never guess what I saw last night.”

She produces an envelope, previously stored between her boobs in her catsuit, because of course it was, before giddily putting it across the table. It opens, the recently developed photos inside spilling on the table, right in front of her. She closes her laptop, before giving a better look at them, her eyes widening dramatically as she took in exactly who was in the photos.

“So, how about them? Not your grandpappy pictures of Spider-Man uh?” Felicia comments, a coy smile on her face, “Glad to know the old webslinger still hasn’t lost his touch, god they were so fucking hot last night Red, I wish you were there to see them, the way the fought and fucked, fuck I masturbated right there on the roof as I spied on them.”

She is speechless. A cold feeling twists in Mary Jane’s gut. It’s irrational, she tells herself, Peter and she had been broken up for months, almost a year, hell, she was currently fucking his ex-girlfriend on the side (and some precious few other people, but those didn’t count at this point, she only ended up meeting them once anyway and barely remembered the names of half of them), she shouldn’t care about who he might or might not fuck, but still, he was still one of the fixed points in her life, her best friend, he who would have become the father of her daughter had fate not played a cruel twist on her, she had almost married him at one point at that bastard fat man not sat on him, making her make the greatest mistake of her life and get cold feet on him, so seeing him fight, his naked body for everyone to see (And how much did he get upset over her naked body being exposed for everyone to see, the hypocrite), and fuck some other woman, it didn’t sit well with her.

It was also hot as fuck, obviously, Mary Jane poor disaster bi heart almost collapsing at the sight of the man of his dreams getting dominated by the most gorgeous women she had ever seen (Not counting the ones in the room), but now Mary Jane was trying to listen to her emotional and rational sides when dealing with this whole mess rather than her pussy, currently yearning for her to become the happy and desperate filling in a superhero sandwich featuring the couple currently in the photos.

“Felicia,” Mary Jane starts, choosing her next words very carefully so not to give away anything, deflecting her “You understand what you did was very wrong right? I don’t think neither Peter nor… this incredibly hot woman would have liked you spying on them.”

“Tsk, I know from experience that If they didn’t want an audience, they should have chosen a more secluded spot” She huffs, arms crossed, which only help accentuating her own bust as it giggles, only worsening Mary Jane situation in terms of clear head.

She gives the pictures a better look, the gorgeous woman on the frames with Peter strangely familiar, as if she had seen her somewhere, a long time ago-

Mary Jane eyes shot open as a vault of memories opens in her mind, finally putting into focus exactly who the woman in the picture is, and why she knows her, memories that make no sense to her, because she can clearly remember Peter drooling over the woman, while dressed as Spider-Man, and she can remember her not liking that because he happened to… be… her… husband?

“Wait, shit, Red you OK?” Felicia asks, slightly alarmed at her stare, cold and almost lifeless on the pictures, as confusing memories wrestle in her mind for dominance, “Shit, shit, sorry, I didn’t know you would have taken it this badly, fuck, I thought you were going to be OK with this, that you’d be happy that he had moved on, or you’d just get horny at the pictures and we’d fuck on the table again, come on Red, talk to me!”

But Peter had never been her husband, she would remember if he was her husband right, they almost did get married but then a fat man sat on him, but why did she refuse to marry him just for that, they’ve weathered worse over the years, and why did she say she was her wife when he met this woman, the woman exist so her memories of her must be right too, did Peter also remember drooling over her and her claiming to be his wife? Why did she remember this just know, that woman was surely hard to forget, why did she suddenly start remembering about those two journalists she had a double date with Peter with, before getting it ruined by Dock Ock and some bald dude almost blowing up the earth with a satellite cannon, the guy at the date looked nice if a bit unassuming, but she could tell she was built like a brick house under all that humble demeanor, the woman looked hot as fuck, she is pretty sure Peter flirted with her too? Why is she remembering all of this just now, and why does she remember Peter Parker being her husband that one time, are there any other spots in her memory that have been tampered with? All the fuzzy and uneven memories from the fat man sitting on him to her dumping him after Aunt May gets shot by a sniper, why did she even dump him after that, he needed her and she is pretty sure she still loved him, why would she do something so selfish, almost as if someone else had moved her hand, as if some dark force else had changed what she remembered about their time together-

Mary Jane doesn’t even notice, in her internal crisis, as Felicia gets up and rushes at her side, hand on her shoulder and gently shaking her as she keeps calling her, her cats alarmed by their mistress discomfort idly wandering at her own side, the new black tabby the first to come, just to glare some more at Mary Jane while he’s at it, jumping on the table and walking over the pictures, giving them a disinterested look like only a cat can look disinterested with a look, before returning to glare murder at Mary Jane.

The evil cat cutting her vision of the photos seems to break Mary Jane’s shock, her mind, assaulted by two different sets of realities, one where she and Peter were never married and he never met the Amazon, the one where she had been living till now, and the one where she had come to their world to help him defeat a common enemy, and she was still his wife, complaining about he was drooling over the mighty warrior, as if she wouldn’t do the same in his place, which would lead to an alternate set of memories, freshly resurfacing, their history together, happy, married, with its ups and downs.

She blinks, and shakes her head, and the two realities merge into one, the pieces clashing against each other as the missing pieces of the puzzle reveal themselves to her.

“Fuck.” Mary Jane swears, and that makes Felicia emit a sigh of relief as her roommate, friend and lover seems to have gotten back to her senses, only to get alarmed once more at the tears in the redhead eyes.

“Shit, I knew you were still in love with him, I’m such a stupid idiot, fuck it, I’m going to kick his ass for making you cry, also her ass however gorgeous it might be I don’t care she’ll probably pulverize me to a pu-“ She is stopped, mid-sentence, by Mary Jane’s finger on her lips, and Felicia really has to resist the urge not to suck it, even at a time like this. Mary Jane smiles at her, and its wide and full of mirth, because she finally understands, managing to put Felicia a bit more at ease.

“We need to call Peter,” she says, after a long, calming breath, “We need- We need to talk to him, I think… I think we all forgot something very important, and that that woman might know something about it.”

* * *

Among the many crimes and horrors Doctor Otto Octavius had inflicted on Peter Parker during the year he had taken over his body and life, having the mad scientist devise a self-replicating, overtly infectious and virtually impossible to prevent cyber virus just to infect every future cellphone that will ever be owned by one Peter Benjamin Parker so they’d blast “Morning Mood” by Norwegian composer and pianist Edward Grieg as an alarm clock for the rest of his life, and then placed dormant on an off shore cyberfarm so to activate in case of his eventual defeat and start targeting Peter in case he was not in the other man’s body anymore to prevent its triggering, probably didn’t even make the top 100 list, even despite the overtly convoluted pettiness of the whole scheme.

And yet, that morning, Peter was ready to strangle the good doctor next time he happened to face him again just for that one specific, final “prank” on him, as the last grim reminder of Peter’s loss of his bodily autonomy, his control and his life, reared it’s ugly and most importantly loud head at eight in the morning in a Sunday afternoon, waking him from the restless sleep he had fallen the previous night.

He awakes with a groan, mind still groggy after the short sleep, the morning light shining through the window of his room as he had apparently forgot to close the blinds the previous night, greatly aggravating his current status as a man who really didn’t want to wake up yet. He is sore, and his head is pounding, but he still swats at his left, on the nightstand where he usually leaves it to charge overnight, and hits the blank and finds nothing, realizing too late, with another groan, how the sound was coming from a deeper part of his room.

He begrudgingly gets up, at least just to stop the annoyingly pastoral melody, untangling himself from his bed and, still half asleep and with his eye’s half lidded, he stomps toward the source of the noise.

His phone has been taped to the wall with one of his webs.

Peter smartphone was, in its characteristically chunky yet incredibly sturdy design, a Doomdroid 98.

The Doomdroid 98 is an older model from the Von Doom line of tablets and smartphones, voted by buzzfeed as the third phone “most likely to contain a trojan spyware reporting everything passing through your phone to a foreign government own intelligence agencies”, but also one of the few brands of smartphones out there that DIDN’T build in planned obsolescence in their products, Peter having used the older model without an itch ever since he bought it, not even new, a couple years before, and also due to the outrageously small price Latveria sold them overseas, a direct result of the still standing Economic Deal the country managed to strike with the United States during the summer of ’95, allowing little to no tariffs between the two nations in the “spirit” of the “free market” and the assumed conception, on the American part, that they’d easily overrun the Eastern European Dictatorship economy in a couple years.

Cries of Victor Von Doom just flooding in the market with his own country products just to murder the American economy from experts and concerned CEOs alike had however fallen on deaf ears as more and more products where exported from the technologically advanced superpower, sold dirt cheap to starved masses and overwhelming the competition, a monopoly almost taking place as the economy was crushed under the Latverian’ metal heel, the populus fed and happy with their new Latverian patented phones, tablets, computers, then cars, helicopters, aircrafts, industries that used to produce armies of disposable killer robots by the second now converted for the real conquest of the world, only to then outsource its industries to the now economically defendant United States, jobs and jobs rolling in and saving that same economy Victor Von Doom had destroyed by exploiting its fatal flaws after years of unchecked consumerism, that way being able to unite it under one banner, the Latverian one, with the help of some cheap, easily sold, yet almost indestructible and well-functioning toys, a walk in the park to devise and produce for a man who managed to cure death once.

And who cared if some unscrupulous CEO or corrupted politician had their brain fried right before trying to lobby for the introduction of heavy tariffs on Latverian products or tried to strip away Doom’s workers’ rights, surely not the superhero community, occupied as it was with its own problems with the government, and being virtually powerless to stop the dictator due to both his diplomatic immunity and his all above board masterplan, without even a hint of diabolical laughter or megalomaniacal murder robot army.

In the end, even Von Doom’s greatest detractors were forced to accept their impotence against him in this one, specific issue, especially after the man had become a folk hero in the states by that point, as far as mad scientist warlock dictators that also happen to be the owners and main designer of the most famous line of smartphones and computers in the world.

All of this might sound weird to you reader but you must understand just how much do the citizens of the Marvel universe crave a strong, dictatorial supervillain crushing them under their boot, those fools elected Wilson Fisk AND JJ Jameson as mayors of New York after all, those people cheered as Norman Osborn was inducted as director of shield, the Panther God of Wakanda called Victor Von Doom the only men that could save the human race from themselves, this has in no way shape or form any relation with events that might be happening in your world, and it’s just a natural evolution of that.

Getting back to Peter, his phone was indeed displaying one of its selling point at the moment, the proof of the Latverian now patented quality of their product, after apparently still being intact and working, as well as still with enough power to blast its annoying alarm clock, even after getting thrown against the wall by a superpowered individual and hastily stuck there with a web shot, and he furrows his brow at the sight, wondering for a small moment, in the blissful last moments of incoherence and oblivion the rudely awakened man was just experiencing due to being so suddenly stolen from the throes of sleep, what reason would he have for putting his trusty and probably not a Doombot in disguise phone, with its trusty built in professional camera and almost limitless memory allowing him to take hours of footage and photos undisturbed (A real blessing back when he was still a photographer for the Buggle) and that was… mysteriously running at the moment, if the light on near the camera’s eye on the back of his phone was any indication…

Peter’s eyes widen, what little traces of sleep abandoning him as the events of last night finally come rushing in, all at once, and he can take a better look at the room, his vision finally in focus.

The room is not really in shambles, but it has seen better days. The bed he was previously laying on had apparently not resisted the events of the previous night, the rickety legs giving way under them as it crashed on the floor, half molten webs stuck against walls and floor alike, for he had apparently find the spare web slingers in yesterday’s frenzy once he got back home, that’s not even talking about the veritable stains of now dried cum he had basically painted the room with, always a bitch to remove, the merciless amazon taking more and more of him as hip and person shaped craters where constellating the walls, right where he had fucked her against, or where she had ridden him against…

He grabs the phone, still bleating the annoying piece, and unsticks it from the wall. The now old webs easily give way, barely scratching the ruined wall, and stops the alarm. He can now hear a softer murmuring from the other room in his one bedroom one bathroom one living room with kitchen angle cramped apartment, and he curses under his breath, because while he assumed she had gone away due to her not being in the bed with him, that Diana might still be in his apartment right now.

He is naked, what little was left of his costume lost in the frenzy of last night, and his first, soul crushing thought is that apparently his mask is gone, and he almost has a panic attack at the thought that he has just revealed his identity to technically a complete stranger, because that’s always gone well for him, and what was he thinking last night?

The answer is simple. He wasn’t. He was thinking with his dick, again, because that has always turned out well for him clearly, and just fucked up one of the most important rules in his life. What if she gets mind controlled and reveals his identity now? What if she is a sexy Skrull Chaos Agent pretending to be a superhero to destabilize earth government again? Or what if she was another of Gwen or His clones, then mutated to look like a musclebound genderbent Greek statue? Peter’s life has faced way too much weird and traumatizing dangers to not think about hypotheticals like those, and it’s only his phone ringing from an incoming call that stops him from spiralling into a vortex of anxieties and self-loathing, startling him from his reverie.

Without even looking who it is, he rejects the call, and shakes his head to calm himself as he distantly the sound of his phone finally dying due to zero battery. The milk has been spilled, in great amounts all over the room and on top of both himself and probably his companion from the looks of it, and he must now quickly act to limit the damage, deduce what she knew and how much, and THEN ponder just how much was he actually fucked, possibly with a cup of coffee at hand, or maybe nine.

He gives himself a cursory glance at his room full mirror, still intact if surreptitiously stained with dried cum on some spots, makes him notice just how bruised he looks. There are marks all over his body, some of teeth, others due to the lasso, and he tentatively massages some of the nastier looking bruises, feeling them more uncomfortable than painful. He thanks his enhanced healing abilities for such a quick recovery, as he gives himself a final pat down just to see if everything was still working, before mentally preparing himself to face the music, not even bothering to put anything on.

He comes out the bedroom into the living room and, technically, also the kitchen and entrance of his cheap apartment. His guest is watching TV, which is situated on his left side, at an incredibly low volume, probably not to disturb him, and the news channel is on. She turns from her sit on the sofa, a beaten and uncomfortable thing of a dirty and permanently stained beige color and gives him a dazzling smile.

She greets him with a dazzling smile, and he is astounded once again just by how good she looks, noticing now how he had just interrupted her as she was drying her damp hair with one of his far too rugged towels from the bathroom.

“Hey Spider-Man, I just took a shower hope you don’t mind” she tells him as explanation, and he gets closer to her as she turns back to the television, where some newscaster is apparently giving the financial news. She is dressed in one of the only two bathrobes currently in his apartment, technically his only bathrobe, a rough and ruined by years of incorrect washing cycles and detergents black abomination, which is doing very little to cover her at all, especially due to their obvious difference when it comes to body size, barely reaching her hips and revealing her toned and maddeningly long legs to him, and forcing her to keep the robes untied so not to constrict her bosom too much, which gives him, as he makes a short step near the angle of the room so to properly face her, a tantalizing glimpse of what he knows hides beneath the robes.

He idly notices how, if his body has now become a canvas of bruises and marks, she looks positively flawless, something that slightly peeves Peter as he did give her just as good as she was giving him last night, and he was the only one showing the signs for it.

She is still intently watching the screen, brows furrowed, completely ignoring him, something that is only making him more self-conscious by the minute as he awkwardly brings a hand to the back of his neck and scratches against it. She stops scrubbing her long hair, apparently content with keeping them a bit damp still, or most probably because he had tried to find where he kept his hair dryer, only to discover he had none.

“You look a mess Spider-Man, maybe you should be thinking about taking a shower too?” she finally proposes, giving him a cursory glance with the corner of her eyes, almost annoyed by his lack of initiative, “Then we can discuss everything that must be running through your head, but I like my rivals and lovers alike to be presentable when they want to talk to me, if you don’t mind.”

He can feel her scolding him, with a prim and measured tone, and he can’t help but blush, like a naughty schoolboy who had just gotten reprimanded by his teacher. Except the teacher also happened to look like a half-naked Goddess and should probably break him in half over her knee.

Without even protesting, and mostly to hide to her how his member is starting ti harden at her treatment, he beelines for his own bathroom, ordered around in his own home, and closes the door behind him. The room is spotless, even better than how he left it last night before going out on Patrol, and he can’t believe someone else has just used it. It’s a quick shower as he hastily washes himself with cold water, mostly to douse his spirit and allow him a good, logical conversation with the woman she had just passed a good part of the previous night fucking, and also to remove the few signs of the previous night that he could actually wash away from himself. He grabs one of his other few towels, this one shining in almost criminally bright yellow, and dries his hair and body with it, before deciding on what to do next.

Which leads him to the only other bathrobe in his house. It was a gaudy, pink thing, with puffy white fluff at the edges of it, slightly larger than his usual robe, and probably one of the few well kept things in his house, mostly due to disuse and his own decision of trying to keep it in as good condition as possible.

It was also not his, technically. Mary Jane had bought it, back during one of the on-again phases in their depressingly on again, off again relationship in the last years, and she specifically bought it for him to keep in his apartment in case she was dropping by, only to leave it there after their last break up, almost a year ago, a breakup he didn’t even know what had caused it, probably something stupid like another fat man sitting on top of him, and he had never had the nerve of throwing it away or giving it back to her, not that she ever asked, almost as if removing it from his life was a silent acceptance that that was it and they were actually over for good this time, and he knew it sounded stupid and sentimental on a fundamental level but that didn’t stop the fact he didn’t really want to throw it away anyway.

And now he must use it for himself, unless he wants to flash his guest more than he has already, and because all the action last night might have insulated him against the New York night air but now it was morning and he was in his poorly heated apartment while trying to have a civil conversation with someone, while also being still slightly damp, he needed some layer of clothing to cover himself and this was apparently all he had at hand at the moment.

He sighs, melancholy overtaking him for a second, before steeling himself and grabbing the piece. He puts it on, instantly warming himself in it, the comfortable fluffiness of the piece enveloping him like a lover’s embrace as he exits the door back to the living room.

She is still watching the television, turning toward him as she hears him getting closer. She gives him a once over, causing him to blush for the second time of the day, before nodding, seemingly content, an approving smile on her lips and a strange glint in his eyes.

It just now occurs to Peter that this might all have been some dastardly ploy on Diana’s part to see him in what was obviously another woman’s robe, down to her deciding to wear his less comfortable and less fitting bathrobe after her shower, and he appreciating smile at the sight of him only seems to prove that to be the case.

“There, much better” she comments as he reaches her once again, “Why don’t you sit with me and we talk about how things will go from here? I made some coffee.”

He notices just now the two cups of coffee she is holding in each hand, thankfully his cleanest and least chipped mugs, which she probably prepared as he was taking his shower, and he eagerly grabs the cup offered to him as he sits beside her, taking some large, thankful gulps of it, inhaling it like it was water.

She is watching him intently as he does so, a teasing smile on her lips, and he awkwardly stops, sheepishly putting his now empty mug down on the kitsch plastic table between the couch and his fairly well maintained by his apartment standards television, alongside the countless other dried glass circle strains on it.

“It’s so fucking early,” he uses as an excuse, shrugging a little. She chuckles at his comment, and takes a composed sip of her own coffee, giving a slight grimace at the taste, probably caused by the cheap brand he had had to stock up on, before cautiously putting it down on the same table near his own mug.

“Now that you’re presentable, I think we can start talking about what really matters now” she says, also holding the coffee mug in her hands, “why am I actually here, is this the start of a bigger exchange between our worlds, and what can we do from here.”

He startles a little at her comment, expecting to discuss with her other, equally concerning matters.

“Hold on, hold on, what about last night?”

“What about last night?” She parrots him, apparently confused about why he would ever ask her such a question.

He returns scratching the back of his neck again, “I mean, we did and said a lot of things to each other and on each other last night, shouldn’t we talk about that a little?”

Her perplexed look lasts for a couple more seconds before giving way to annoyance.

“Ugh, you men are all the same, no matter the universe” she mutters under her breath, apparently not caring he could hear her. She grabs him by his shoulders, and he yelps a little at that, before looking him intently in his eyes.

“Did you have fun last night?” She asks, inquisitive and demanding, “Because I did, and that’s all it was, two consenting adults having fun, you should not overthink it and should not expect me to want anything more for you than what you already gave me, and I’m perfectly fine with that, which means we can continue having fun together at least until I find my way back home or we stop whatever is going on right now, or we can part ways like amicable friends who simply had some fun together and that was it. Now, what’s it going to be little man?”

His brain blanches, because she is giving him an out but he doesn’t really know if he should take it, conflicting reasonings and emotions swimming in his brain as Wonder Woman rolls her eyes, already sensing the conundrum she had out Peter in, and simply grabs her Lasso, which was apparently resting somewhere on the couch with her, only to rapidly wrap it against his torso with one fluid, practiced move.

“What do you really want, little man?” She asks once again, and the Lasso glows golden as clarity assaults Peter’s mind with the swiftness and nastiness of an RKO coming right out of nowhere.

“I want to keep getting fucked by you” he admits, and his eyes grow wide and his cheeks red at the sound of his own admission, Diana quickly releasing him from her lasso with a satisfied hum.

“I hate that thing,” He mutters, and she chuckles a little at that as she relaxes back in her sit.

“Now, can we get back to the possibly reality destroying crisis, or do you have any inaner issues to bring up with me?”

Her tone is dismissive, and her whole demeanor toward him is starting to grate on his nerves, not helped by the caffeine and the early morning, but he does have a major, glaring issue with her right now and he must bring it up to her.

“Hold on, I do have an issue with this whole situation,” he says, and she huffs, giving him an annoyed look but gesturing him to go on, “You now know who am I, and I don’t know how are the rules of superheroing where you are from princess, but this is a big no no in my world, especially for me.”

He gestures toward his uncovered face, and she gives him a slightly puzzled look, her demeanor shifting slightly toward a more accommodating one as Spider-Man grew sullen and more serious as she spoke, eyes darkening and his posture slouching a little, his tone concerned.

She looks at him then, long and hard, before steeling herself for her next words.

“I have no idea who you are” She says, and he almost falls off his couch at her reveal.

“What? But you’ve seen my face, we are in my apartment right now!” He exclaims, and she gets even more perplexed at his words.

“Wait, this is your actual home? I thought this was some dingy safe house you used to lay low for a while or intended to bring lovers in while maintaining the mystery and secrecy of the mask.” She looks around the room, and he can almost feel his judging eyes reevaluating everything she has encountered till now while staying in his house under this new light.

“Spider-Man, no offense, but you live like this?” She says, almost disgusted, and her insulting his living arrangements, while completely justifiable, cause him to scoff in indignation.

“I’ll let you know that the economy is in shambles princess, not all of us costumed, unpaid superheroes can afford fancy safe penthouses in the middle of New York City just to fuck people in with what little we get from our actual day jobs.” He defends himself, crossing his arms at her, her comment stinging him more than it should.

She apparently seems to notice she had pushed him too hard, and backpedals a little, tone placating, hands raised.

“Alright, I’m sorry Spider-Man, I didn’t want to insult your humble yet quaint abode, nor I wanted to speak ill of your current financial situation or about your concerns about your secret identity staying secret.”

“I’m just… in a difficult situation right now,” he mutters, deflating a little at the reality of living alone and with a low paying job in today’s economy, “A difficult situation that’s been going on ever since the end of 2006, yes, but I swear I’m working on it.”

“I’m glad to hear that, and for as long as I’ll be here I’ll try to support you in your quest of self-discovery and self-betterment” she says, her smile genuine as she pats him on the shoulder, trying to comfort him, and the feeling of someone believing in him actually fills Peter with a relief that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Returning to your secret identity Spider-Man, I really do not know who you are. I am a traveller from a different universe, and I have never seen your counterpart in my world, so I do not know your real name not even if you are showing me your face right now. I have tried to pry as little as possible in your house, even if I assumed it was some sort of superhero safe house, because I wanted to respect your decision of not revealing to me your identity yesterday, and I’m willing to go on with it as long as you like.”

He calms down at her words, especially as he sees her Lasso of truth, still in her hands, glow golden at her admission, mentally jotting down the possibility of her being someone pretending to be the Amazon in order to fuck with him and find out his identity.

“Now, Spider-Man, can we get back to discussing my theories about what might actually be happening and potential plans to stop them?” She asks, and she is all business again, but her gaze is still soft and she it still smiling at him.

“Ok, fine, what do you have?” He asks with a small sigh, but she is right, and he knows it, they must find out what is going on and how she got here with him. She takes a breath to steel herself, her eyes closed, and or a moment he just admires how her chest elegantly raises and falls like a empire, before her eyes open and she is all steel and focus again.

“So, after a cursory glance on your local news, it seems no major disaster or events seems to have occurred last night. Taking what I learned this morning from the Television and on the internet thanks to your computer” She says, gesturing toward the kitchen counter where he only now notices is resting his trusty and banged up Doom Vista ’98, mentally reminding himself to change the password again to someone more difficult to find out than “Sp1d3r” “and combining it with the briefing you gave me right before we started our contest of strength-”

“Is that what they call it where you’re from?” He quips, and he can’t help but snort a laugh, only to then having to endure Diana annoyed glare.

“Little man, you better get a hold on yourself and stop interrupting me or I’ll have to find something to gag you with.” She says, and his mirth evaporates at the mention of getting gagged, his easy smile slowly fading as cold sweat passes through his brow, then followed by Peter’s slowly gulping, suddenly thirsty.

She pays his reaction no mind as she continues with animated zeal, “Getting back to it, from what I could gather, and for this I can thank this world Wikipedia, truly a wonder of the modern age, your world does have some major differences with mine, especially when it comes to Superhero related issues, but also other, minor changes in reality, such as one of this country vice presidents apparently once trying to use the power of a mystical artifact to conquer the world in the 70s, or your Greek gods and heroes being different than mine such as the figure of Hercules, while also displaying some major changes of stellar level, with the presence of those unfathomable entities out there in the stars, or the fact your earth is apparently several sizes smaller than mine, all differences far to major just for this to be a simple alternative version of my own reality in the same multiverse, as shown by me never having met your potential counterpart in my own world.”

“That could be just me not being born there due to the butterfly effect” He points out, completely engrossed in the conversation now, “And even if I wasn’t, you still should have a Spider-Themed superhero there keeping the web of life working, every reality of the multiverse must have a Spider there, it’s, like, a rule of creation or something, otherwise universes get destroyed or some similar apocalyptic stuff, I don’t know, I never really cared about all that mystical mumbo jumbo, that’s more Madame Web’s field of study-“

“Wait, you said every universe in the multiverse must have a Spider Hero otherwise reality shatters, right?” she interrupts him, her brow furrowed and eyes even more focused on him than before. He nods, and she hums pensively at him, leaning toward him and with a hand stroking her chin “Except, you see Spider-Man, I’m fairly certain there are no Spider heroes in my universe, and trust me, I’d know if there was one if they were anything like you.”

“Hold on, that’s impossible,” He interjects, animated by the familiar territory of Spider-People he was suddenly in, “There must be a Spider, if there is no Spider there is no Web of Life and as I said the Web of Life must be interconnected between all universes of the multi-“

“Exactly!” She exclaims, striking her fist against her open palm, as if she was only expecting him to say that, “Your Web of Life only connects universes between your own Multiverse, but what if our universes are not in the same multiverse altogether? What if I come from a way different Multiverse than yours?”

Peter’s eyes widen at her reveal, “Wait, if that where the case, how did we get in contact in the first place? What would that make of the system our two multiverses are in? An Omniverse? Are there other multiverses out there or is there just our twos? Does that make us Twin Systems, so to speak? This goes far beyond our current understanding of extradimensional travel, I feel even Reed Richards or another of the big name scientists might find it difficult to handle” He exclaims, excited like a kid on Christmas, but then a sinking feeling starts pulling at his stomach, “But wait, we already met each other, hell I’m pretty sure I’ve been to your universe a couple of times, my memories are a bit fuzzy about the whole ordeal but I definitely remember you, you’re kinda hard to forget princess, and I remember teaming up with some big guy built like a brickhouse in red and blue and a cape against Venom once, was really nice, almost like a boy scout-“ He blanches a little as he remembers another memory from his past, “I think I tried to hit on his girlfriend too? And she was kinda into it? Not sure, everything is fuzzy, I can’t even remember if I was still working at the Buggle or at another newspaper back then which is weird because I definitely remember never working for any other newspaper but the Buggle…”

“That must have been Superman” she says, a tinge of melancholy in her voice, and he stops himself from rambling dipper into the pit he his digging himself in “He is definitely from my world, or at least a world similar to mine so there has been a time where our multiverses where in contact with each other, but how did it happen? And why is it happening again now? And why are our memories so frizzy about it?”

“To be fair, most of my memories about my past feel weird, almost as if something is missing or has been tampered with, “ he says, pensive, “But my memories about you or your world were especially bad, I barely remembered you existed till I say you last night, then it all came back to me, and it still is coming back to me, little by little.”

She hums at his statement, pensive, “That might be also a side effect of this phenomenon, or maybe something completely different altogether. We do not have enough information about this, we need to expand what we know. However, from what little I can remember that this has never been an isolated case in the past, which means that if I am being dropped here, maybe someone else will follow suit, or someone will be sent to my world too, and we can’t tell if whoever will arrive or leave will be another hero, some random criminal, or even just some world destroying threat.”

Spider-Man gulped at the prospect of someone capable of scaring even the mighty amazon in front of him coming to his apparently smaller world, or of some of his less savory enemies to go and ruin hers, “We need to go warn other people about this then, I am a simple web crawling superhero, I’m not usually involved with these kind of crises unless many more supers are involved… Although, thinking about it, maybe not right now, it’s way too damn early in the morning no one will even be willing to let us in, let alone listen to us, let’s just wait a couple hours for at least some of the most morning person ones to get up and then we’ll just need to get to some of my world’s top scientists, or mystics or whatever, someone who will probably know how to figure out how can we solve this faster than just us two and help us out with it, and as long as I’m here I swear to you I’ll let you return home, princess.”

“Spider-Man, are you offering to become the valiant knight for this helpless foreign princess in her hour of need?” She coos, a teasing smile on her lips as she lunges on the side of his couch, her heavy chest almost spilling off her tight and small robe, “I wonder if that naughty brain of yours is making you tell me all those nice words just to mellow me out to fuck you again sooner rather than later.”

As she says so, she arches one of her long, strong legs, brushing her elegant feet, which he can’t help but notice isn’t covered by her boots anymore and is now completely naked to him, a bit reddened by the previous shower and having to walk barefoot on the ground for the morning, over his covered hardness, making him gasp.

He blushes, but he stands his ground, “As if I’d ever stoop so low! It might have been completely accidental, but you did drop on me last night, which means until I see you safely back home, you are my responsibility now, and I will see you through be the last thing I do.”

“So, you don’t want me to reward you with sex for all your future brave deeds?” She teases him again, egging him on with a coy smile as she keeps teasing him over his robes, “You said it yourself, it’s far too early, no one will ever receive us at this hour, I think we have just a couple of hours to have some more… fun together, what do you say?”

Peter’s breath catches.

“I mean, if it’s just a couple hours,” He hastily adds as she keeps gently pushing against his member, still covered beneath the fluffy pink bathrobe, now stirred to half mast, all thoughts about helping her out of only the goodness of his heart flying through the window, “Who am I to disagree with you, ma’am?”

“Good boy,” She praises him, and parts her robe, revealing her naked body underneath, and he knows he should be desensitized to it after last night but good lord he can’t stop staring at it, transfixed. With a skillful display of footwork, she parts his own bathrobe, freeing his cock from the meager containment it was in, and she starts grazing against it with her soles, up and down, a slow and careful movement that can’t help but harden Peter’s cock to its full length, “Why don’t you relax and let mistress give you your special treat now, you earned it.”

He tries to contain his moan but fails spectacularly in doing so as she arches her second leg and puts her left feet into his lap. She is now slouched on the full length of the couch, her legs arched and her feet encasing his own cock between them, gently stroking him up and down. They are damp, and he doesn’t know if it’s remnants of her shower or if its just her own natural sweat, and he doesn’t know which answer he would prefer as he eyes close with a whimper.

He hears a whimper at his side and turns toward her. One of her hands have gone to her pussy, two fingers already inside and thrusting, her skin flushed and glowing, and he can’t help but stare at the show she is giving him, her large breasts heaving with each thrust of her feet and her heavy breathing, her completely on display for him.

“What a naughty slave you are, watching your mistress while she plays with herself,” she teases him, a small, unconstrained whimper escaping her lips, one of her feet leaving his cock to gently tap his chin and raise his head to meet her eyes, now alight with mirth, “Now, be a good boy, and look down on my feet and stay still for me please? That means no touching, no looking, no moving, arms stay at your sides for the entirety of our little game, and my feet playing with your dirty man cock will be all you are allowed to see for now. Can you do that for me, Spider-Slut? Can you come with just me using my feet on you?”

He whimpers, because why would she deprive him of the sight of her wondrous body, or even by nods with a whimper, not wanting her ministrations to stop, trying to be as still as possible as he sullenly looks down at his own cock, slightly slouched. Her feet come back to his cock, but doesn’t get to his side again, deciding to press her sole against his foreskin, dexterously peeling his large cockhead with her toes. He whimpers again, greatly aware of the labored whimpers at his side, but stays still, his eyes trained on her work as she starts working his large tip with the space between her toes.

“Gooood boy,” she moans, and he has to lick his lips, her feet currently jerking him off getting faster, more frantic, the teasing getting more forceful as he can feel his own orgasm mounting, “You’re such a good boy for me Spider-Slut, are you a good boy ready for his threat, do you want your threat Spider-Slut? Tell me you want your threat”

“Please princess, give me my threat” he begs unbidden, last night having apparently shattered what little self-control he had left, her feet now back at being both jerking against his length, her rough yet soft soles almost crushing his dick between them as she keeps thrusting, up and down as she keeps pleasuring herself away from his sight, reducing Peter to a horny beast only desperate for the next orgasm, “My dick is about to explode.”

Her pace somehow gets faster, his aching cock, almost ready to spill, getting assaulted mercilessly by the Amazon’s feet, he hears her whimper, the sound of her wet folds obscenely clenching around her fingers, as well as the one of his cock getting jerked, and he is transfixed with it as she keeps going up and down.

“Keep looking you slut, look at your mistress feet, look at your pathetic cock, don’t you dare look away” She moans, almost delirious, and he can’t help but moan with her, “Are you ready to receive your threat Spider-Slut, are you ready to eat it all up for mistress?”

He can’t focus on her words, or what they might mean, but he knows one thing.

“F-fuck, princess, I’m about to-“ He tries to warn her, only for his voice to break with a final moan, his mouth already half open

“Here’s your P-princess’ reward you Spider-Sluuuuuuuu-” She screams, almost covering the sound of her own orgasm, and his Spider-Sense starts ringing on like crazy. The sensation of impending catastrophe somehow gets him right over the edge, his cock erupting like a gayser… right below his face and waiting mouth.

The sticky white fluid hits him straight in the face, spurts of cum blinding him and coating his nose and cheeks. A good chunk of it gets in his mouth, still half open, and he can taste his own Spider-Seed’s tangy and masculine flavor. He sputters, but he can’t help but swallow some of it as the few remaining sputters of cum land squarely on the hero’s pink bathrobe, still tied on his front and memento of his greatest love, staining it with the seed he had just spilled due to another woman’s feet.

However, his brain is too addled by his recent orgasm to think about symbolism right now, and he slouches on his back, breathless, and brings up a hand to wipe the cum on his eyes, rubbing it away, hard breath coming out of him after the new experience. As he finally returns to see, he hears a rustling on his side, and he turns toward Wonder Woman, glowing in post orgasm bliss, skin flushed and sweaty. She has gotten closer to him, and she gently pushes her own fingers, the ones she has been pleasuring herself with, against his mouth, which he begrudgingly accepts, tasting her fluids on them, moaning at the familiar and sweet taste. In turn, the amazon takes hold of the hand he had used trying to scrub the cum off his face and eyes, still drenched in the white spunk, and starts sucking on his own fingers, tasting his seed actually for the first time since he met her.

He turns toward her, expecting to see her eyes flutter shut as he hears her moan, muffled by his fingers but still quite loud, but she isn’t doing nothing of the sort, a determined expression on her face as she is looking somewhere past him, where the rest of the cramped room and, most importantly, his entrance lie.

He furrows his brow, what little drops of cum still there, running down his face with the motion, and turns to his right, wanting to check out what had captured his amazon princess’ interest so much.

And witness a flabbergasted Mary Jane Watson at his door, her spare keys still jingling in the keyhole, mouth hanging open in shock, with a leering Felicia right behind her, trying to look past her shoulder thanks to her slightly superior height, enjoying the show.

A cold, irrational chill goes down Peter’s spine, the 27th worst nightmare in his personal and very detailed list all the terrible nightmares he ever had made manifest, as both of his ex-girlfriends had just caught him red handed with another woman in an embarrassing and humiliating situation.

He wasn't dating neither of them at the moment, yes, but that didn't make this anymore awkward or weird.

Because only one thought was crossing Peter Parker's mind now.

_"How the fuck do I explain any of this to them now?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder Bread is an actual thing, look it up, people have the strangest fetishes.


	3. The One with the Foursome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amazon Diplomacy at its finest as plot happens.

In retrospect, he probably should have picked on his door getting opened the exact second his spider sense started going off as he was about to cum on himself. He could have attempted something to prevent all of this, like leap off the window and pummel to his death on the streets below for starters.

Mary Jane and Felicia had seemed to take surprisingly well the state they had found him in, that is wearing a Mary Jane’s old robe and cumming all over himself while receiving a footjob from a half-naked woman twice his size in muscle mass and height. Although, he didn’t really know why he was even worrying after all.

Felicia had never been the most judgy of people, especially when it came to sex, and their story had ended ages ago, while Mary Jane, while still holding an important place in his heart, wasn’t his girlfriend at the time either, and had had her own share of occasional lovers over the years according to those wretched tabloids and gossip rags he was following for no particular reason, he just wanted to keep himself informed about the new fashion trends and celebrity gossips really, he was dealing with their break up just fine, as demonstrated by his current, completely well thought out fling he just had with a warrior woman from a different universe.

In fact, he was pretty sure the two women were actually dating at the moment, especially after he had to help them move to their shared apartment a couple months ago and he found some of what he recognized as Felicia’s toys from their old days among Mary Jane’s things, and he was glad the two had found each other of course, they were both great people and deserved all the happiness they could get, something he knew he, with his difficult and fucked up life, as well as his meagre income, could never truly provide to either of them, so it was fine, he was fine, and was definitely not crying himself to sleep reaching for the warm and comfort he knew he had probably lost for good, not at all.

Still, despite how incredibly fine he was with the whole situation between them, it was kind of an embarrassing state to be found in by two women he had shared such a deep history with, and he could tell from her shocked face that Mary Jane must have been playing similar thoughts through her mind as she took the sight of him, as any woman with common sense and restraint would have when watching their ex getting covered in their own cum right in front of her.

The Black Cat, however, as her unauthorized autobiography states numerous times, didn’t exactly arrive where she was listening to any kind of common sense or possessing any sort of restraint, which she demonstrated once again that morning as she decided to make the first move.

“Spiiider, having fun without your favorite Cat and Redhead now? I’m heartbroken,” Felicia teases him, instantly breaking the tension as she saunters past Mary Jane and into the apartment, instantly regretting her decision as she scans Peter’s awful living condition with a grimace, before quickly recovering as her eyes fall on a still naked Diana, “But I see you have managed to replace us with some fine company Spider-Man. Who’s the new girl?”

She is in her civilian clothes, thankfully having had the presence of mind not to come to his apartment costumed, yet still managing to be on the right side between dazzling and scandalous, a black blouse, the top buttons unbuttoned so to reveal a neckline low enough to show some of her impressive cleavage but high enough to still be considered classy, a white skirt, open on the side and reaching just around her knee, so that each step she could give a tantalizing glimpse of her long legs, and stupidly high white heel pumps, golden bracelets at each wrists, softly jingling against each other, and with long, flowy white hair cascading around her face and down her back in slight waves, a long white coat, unbuttoned and open, completing the ensemble.

“I am Diana, Princess of Themyscira, future queen of the Amazons and ambassador to my world’s UN.” Diana presents herself, apparently not caring about her current state of undress nor about the two women who had suddenly caught them in the act, a warm smile but just a hint of steel in her gaze, as she rises from her sit, completely foregoing the robe to circumnavigate the couch and offer a welcoming hand to Felicia in greeting, “And who might you be instead, prowling inside this man’s home like it was your own and asking for my name like I’m not here?”

Felicia smirks at her, accepting her offered hand and shaking it, “Name’s Felicia, but you can call me Black Cat… or anything else you want, really, I’m flexible like that.”

“But enough about me, I feel congratulations are in order,” She says as she turns toward Spider-Man with a smirk, Peter still unsure of how to handle the situation as he turns toward them and a still shocked Mary Jane, “You managed to loosen up Mr. great power and great responsibility over there enough to do some really kinky stuff with you, you know I had to spend months trying to convince him that it was OK to put it in my ass, and here you are getting yours plowed on the first date AND you manage to piss on him too? You have my outmost respect woman, what’s your secret?”

“Men are simple beings, and have many misconceptions about my culture when I start talking about the Amazons, you tell them exactly what they want you to tell them, you can convince them of anything,” Diana responds, easily striking conversation with the cat burglar, “Especially when it comes to the most outlandish of sex practices, why, there was a boyfriend during the war I managed to convince the only way for him to be worthy of plowing my ass, he had to get his ass plowed back, still remember the fountain of seed he made as I-“

“Felicia, how the hell do you even know that?” Peter squeaks, finally finding the voice to speak, coughing at how high he sounded before lowering it a little, interrupting Felicia’s conversation with Diana.

“She was spying on us last night, I could see her from our battlefield on a nearby roof, taking pictures of us with her camera, I didn’t recognize her at first since she doesn’t have her costume on but on a closer look I’m sure it’s her, I’d be able to recognize those delectable mounds anywhere” Diana answers him, a coy smirk aimed at Felicia and answered in kind, only causing Peter to sputter in disbelief.

“Wait, you knew she was- Then why the hell didn’t you warn me!” Peter complains, his tone upset and almost but not definitely pouting “I could have brought us somewhere else or-”

“I thought you could tell with your powers and were fine with it?” Diana answers with a perplexed tone, “In fact, I was sure you were planning to get an audience right from the start, otherwise why would you have agreed to fight me in such an exposed and public space?” She points out, earning a nod of agreement from Felicia.

“See Spider, the enormous sex goddess is right, you wanted to get caught by someone, and you’re just got lucky enough to get caught by someone like me rather than, say, Doctor Doom or one of your stupid enemies,” Felicia teases him with a smirk, and he shoots up the couch in a panic, her words triggering his anxieties all in one fell swoop.

“Fuck, wait, were other people there? Did either of you see anyone else? What if Norman Osborn was there, or Otto? Fuck what if someone traces my identity thanks to the shape and size of my dick, Dock Ock’s girlfriend did back when he was dating her while inside my body, what if they start targeting Diana to get through me, or start blackmailing her with the evidence of our tryst forcing her into a spiral of drug abuse and prostitution so not to expose her as a slut to the world and then she’s sold as a slave and then the blackmailer discovers about you and MJ and start blackmailing you too and-”

His front door shuts closed, a loud bang echoing in the apartment, the suddenness of the loud sound momentarily shutting him up.

All three heroes turn toward the noise, breaking their train of thoughts and eventual panic attacks. Mary Jane is standing in front of the now closed door, keys back in her simple, black purse, now hanging from Peter’s rickety coat rack on his door, taking some deep, long breaths, centering herself as she can feel three collective sets of stares on her, eyes closed.

Her eyes snap open, “Felicia, stop flirting with the hot woman and get back here, now.” Mary Jane orders, pointing her finger to Felicia and earning a soft whine of protest, the platinum blonde complying nevertheless and getting back on her side of the room with a pout, “Peter, dear, no one is getting sold into any slavery, sexual or otherwise, as long as I have any say in it. No one else was there to spy on you, or at least no one who was having ill intent to you, otherwise you’d picked it up with your spider-sense, so calm the fuck down and get yourself cleaned, your face is still covered in cum so try not to ruin my robe more than you’ve already have please,” She says, placatingly and a bit pleading, and he becomes beet red in the face at the reminder of his current state, hastily making a beeline for the bathroom to wash himself again with a mumble and a nod, his anxieties and worries temporarily quieted by her words.

Diana gives him an amused glance as he leaves, taking particular notice of his thick ass shaking a little in each step beneath the robe, before turning to the redhead in front of her, getting the impact of her full glare, “Mmmmm, and who might you be instead, little woman? Spider-Man didn’t tell me his world was populated by such great beauties, capable to give unquestionable orders to one of their mighty warriors and one of their most beautiful women without so much as a complaint, and face me, Wonder Woman, without fear nor desire-”

“Well, you’re not the scariest nor the hottest thing I’ve ever seen either, princess, I don’t see what I should be afraid of,” She shoots back, her glare still trained on her, “I’m Mary Jane Watson. I think we’ve already met, if indirectly.”

Diana’s eyes falter a little, uncertain at her words, because she would have remembered ever having the pleasure to meet a woman as striking as this one, before giving her a better look. Her hair are long, straightened and of a deep shade of red, longer and less curly than the ones she was wearing back then, and she is dressed in a casual, tight white shirt, accentuating her curves, tight blue jeans and a green vest jacket over her shoulders, pointed toe nude black flats at her feet, and for a moment she can’t exactly place where she has seen her before but then her memories shift, if only a little, and she remembers exactly where else she has heard that commanding tone before, way back to her first meeting with Spider-Man.

“Ooooh, you were the young woman searching for her husband that day I visited your world and fought Mantis and the giant man in armor!” Diana realizes, a charming smile on her face, “Your world really is small, what are the odds that I’d meet both you and him at the same-”

Something clicks in Diana’s brain, because it really is a fortunate coincidence to find her there now, isn’t it, here in the home of the man she just fucked, the same man who was fighting alongside her all those years ago and happened to have a real compelling reason not to stick around right as this woman happened to search for her husband-

“Spider-Man was the husband you couldn’t find wasn’t it,” Diana comes to the painful realization, causing Mary Jane’s and Felicia’s breath to catch, “I deeply apologize, he didn’t tell me he already belonged to someone before accepting my challenge, and it was never my intention to steal another woman’s beloved, I’ll gladly help you punish him for deceiving both me and-“

“Wait, wait!” Felicia stops her, one arm already around a shaking Mary Jane, “You think… you think Red and Peter are married?”

Diana gives Felicia a puzzled look, “I mean, yes? Assuming this Peter you are talking about is Spider-Man, my memories from the time, as most of our memories seem to be, might be fuzzier than I’m comfortable with, some glaring holes among them slowly filling in the more people I meet, but looking at you as you are right now I’m sure you two were married, at least at the time, you seemed pretty adamant on reminding him of that, and I recognized in him the fear only a owned man has when confronted with the wrath of his scorned mistress, unless… did you two divorce afterwards? If that’s the case, I can tell that he must have made a tragic mistake in letting go of such a magnificent-”

“No,” Mary Jane says, some tears falling down her cheeks but staying resolute in her words, “I mean, no, we didn’t divorce, or at least I think we didn’t, hell till last night I thought we never even ever married!”

Diana gives her a puzzled look, “I’m sorry Mary Jane, I don’t think I’m-”

“I mean, that until I saw you and remembered about how angry I was at Peter for lusting after you, I had no memories of my marriage with Peter, except now I have, and it’s confusing and painful because I don’t have all of them and I don’t know why this is happening to me or how I forgot about any of this in the first place or-“

Diana, sensing her vulnerability, manages to reach her in some quick strides, embracing her in her muscular and protective frame, the conflict between the two discordant streams of memories once again clashing in her very mind as Mary Jane falls on her knees with a sob, Felicia already at her side and trying to comfort her alongside Diana.

“Shush, it’s ok Mary Jane, it’s ok to not remember, or to remember only a little, or to remember what wasn’t there. We’ll figure something out, me and Spider-Man were already planning some courses of action before you came in, we can start working on those with you, it’s ok now, you’re safe.”

Maru Jane sniffles, cradled between Black Cat and Wonder Woman, calming down in their comforting embraces as Felicia gently pets her hair, a watery laugh escaping the redhead’s mouth.

“Thank you for your words Diana,” Mary Jane thanks her, removing herself from her embrace and returning to her feet with some shaky breaths, Felicia helping her as she stands up. She pats the redhead in comfort, not wanting to let her go, as Diana takes a respectful step back.

After another calming breath, Mary Jane addresses Diana once more, “You’re right, we need to talk about this, and we need to discuss about this with Peter. Something has happened, or maybe something is happening right now, I don’t know, but it somehow has something to do with us being married… or maybe it doesn’t and me remembering all of this now it’s just a massive coincidence, or maybe an unexpected side effect, but…”

“I have an idea,” Wonder woman says as Mary Jane trails off, unsure on what to say, unsure on what was real and what wasn’t, “I have an artifact from my world, something that can be used to reveal someone most inner truths. I can use it on you, if you let me, and you’ll be able to see the truth hiding behind all those illusions.”

“Oh, like the Eye of Agamotto?” Felicia points out chipperly, “Yeeeeaah, I’d say we shouldn’t meddle with magic or other mystical bullshit before consulting an expert, tried to steal that thing from the Sorcerer Supreme once, didn’t work out, found myself in a weird mirror dimension where everyone was a talking animal fighting having to fourth wheel a crane, a buffalo and a pig, definitely not worth the hassle, I say we go for other, less potentially reality breaking solutions, thank you very-“

“I’ll do it,” Mary Jane answers instead, cutting Felicia off, “We can’t wait that long. I can’t wait that long, I want to know the truth, now, no matter the cost.”

“Are you sure about this?” Diana asks, concerned, only to receive a determined nod in return, causing Felicia to sigh.

“Fine, have it your way, but if her “mystical artifact” blows up and summons a tentacle demon to fuck us all don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I understand your affection and worry for the fate of your beloved, but you do not have to worry, my Lasso of Truth is completely safe, there is no way I’d use it on anyone if there’d be even the slightest hint I might hurt them or have them come to harm,” Diana says in a reassuring tone, only earning a dismissive scoff from Felicia, looking away from her.

“You’re lucky you’re hot,” Felicia mumbles under her breath, “Well, whatever you say hot stuff, bring out the mystical mumbo jumbo and let be done with it, the sooner this dumb mystery ends the better.”

“Hold on, before we do anything,” Mary Jane interrupts her, a cross look directed back to Diana, “I don’t know how things work from the planet you’re from, but here on earth people do not go around flashing people unless they’ve been turned into evil reptilian monsters, so can you please put at least a shirt on, you’re very… distracting, and I don’t think distracted is something any of us should be right now.“

“Tsk, speak for yourself,” Black Cat quickly interjects, still protectively holing Mary Jane in an one armed hug, even as she gives an appreciating once over of the Amazon’s muscular body, “Everyone loves being distracted, I love being distracted, hell, I have on good authority you also love being distracted, so why should she be the one getting dressed? In fact, I think we should be the ones getting naked instead, you know, to make… Diana, was it? here feel more at ease, and don’t let me start on the heart attack that’d give the Spider if he ever saw us like that.”

This earns her some chuckles from Mary Jane and Diana, the three women now finally more at ease. Ignoring Felicia’s pout as her proposal is so easily dismissed, Diana takes another step back, before spinning in place one, two, several times, becoming a blur under the astonished gazes of the two women, before stopping in place, revealing her now clothed form.

She is not in her costume anymore, now in her “civilian outfit,” a grey, plaid jacket, open to the front to reveal a black, sensible blouse, and a modest, mid length grey plaid skirt, terminating in black, unassuming flats. Her hair is tied in a tight bun behind her head, and she briefly adjusts her thick, black glasses resting on her nose, giving the other two women something, they assumed was supposed to be what passed for a “meek” smile among the amazons.

“You must be fun at parties,” Mary Jane comments, a stunned look on her face at the amazon incredibly niche yet so useful power, “Do you have any other costumes in there? Like, evil dominatrix, hot nurse, or maybe sexy pirate lady?”

“I’m sorry, but it seems I can only switch between my costume, my civilian clothes, and several stages of undress in between them.” Diana explains with a charming smile and an apologetic tone, seemingly not catching Mary Jane’s sarcasm, “But I must admit, I do often wonder where do my clothes go when I end my spin, and where do my costume come from? What is the extent of this power of mine, can I actually achieve other costumes and dresses, change my own, simply by imposing my will more than I already am? I’m afraid we’ll never know the answers, those are the mysteries of the gods’ miracles after all…”

Peter chooses that moment to get out the bathroom, every trace of his discharge washed off him. He’s still in the pink robe, which still dose sport an evident cum stain on the front, no matter how much it tried to scrub, and he blushes hard as he sees all 3 sets of eyes go to him as he comes out the bathroom’s door.

“Uhm, Hi, yes, so, still no pants, bathroom tragically still pantless too, glad to see you are all having fun together, girl power and all that, so I’ll just… go change a moment, maybe throw myself off the window while I’m at it, can’t believe Diana found something to wear, love the glasses by the way, very last century, why don’t you all get comfy and-“

“Spider-Man,” Diana interrupts him, gently but with a firm tone, stopping Peter’s mid track as he attempts to retreat into his room and leave them alone again, “Come here, I’m sure your guests will not mind your current state more than I do, and bring my Lasso with you, it’s still on the couch.”

Peter’s eyes wide like a deer in the headlights “I- I mean, maybe I can put some pants on first? Like, I really don’t want to insult any of you by being the least dressed person in the room, especially when Felicia is here, sorry Felicia but you know what I’m talking about, you used to wear some ridiculous costumes back in the-”

“Peter.” Mary Jane snaps, causing him to jump a little, “Do as the sexy librarian tells you and get your ass here, we need to talk, and we need to do it now or I’m afraid I’ll snap by just how fucking confusing all of this is!”

Peter’s Adam apple wobbles with his gulp, before he gives her a hesitant nod, grabbing the Lasso from the couch as the four go to his rickety table.

“Don’t worry Spider, it’s not like it’s anything any of us hasn’t seen before,” Felicia comments with a smirk, seizing him up before giving the table and the 3 spare chairs on it a disgusted look, “Ugh, and I’m not sitting on any of those things, might catch some poor people’s germs or something, I can already feel my off shore bank accounts getting drained for every second I pass here, ugh.”

She leans against the wall, behind where Mary Jane is sitting, as Diana takes the opposite chair, forcing Peter to sit right in the middle of them, his decrepit dinner table and occasional workbench in between them. Peter sits, unsure on what to do, and offers his lasso to Diana, who accepts one hand of it with a smile, before asking him to hold the other hand for her, to the inquisitive looks of Mary Jane and Felicia.

“Now, Spider-Man, how many times did you cum inside my waiting, unprotected sex last night?” Diana asks him, the rope glowing golden in his hands.

“Zero,” Peter answers immediately, eyes glazing over, “I only came inside your ass and on your body, the few times I did actually fuck your pussy I was… wearing… a… Co-” He shakes his head as his hand lets go of the rope, rivets of sweat running down his brow, labored breath, under the shocked gazes of Felicia and Mary Jane.

“Fuck, princess, what was that for?” he asks, beet red, shooting a furtive, concerned look to Mary Jane and to Felicia behind her, the two only giving an inquisitive, puzzled look to either him or Diana for the sudden reveal.

“The Lasso of Truth is a gift from my gods,” Diana explains the newcomers, gently starting to tie her hand of the Lasso to her wrist as the rope turns golden, “It will compel whatever mortal it is held by to reveal nothing but the truth, no matter how much they might not want to reveal it to the present company, only being able to resist its powers thanks to incredible mental fortitude, and only if they are willingly fighting against its powers, as Spider-Man here has just demonstrated to us.”

She gives him a proud smile, which doesn’t help the state of his blush as he tries to hide between the frills of his robe, “This doesn’t simply show us the perceived truth of the individual, but the Alatheia, Veritas, his real feelings and ideals, their very existence, true to the individual and those around him, naked to be gawked at by those around them. This will allow us to better discern the nature of our own mental blocks, the false memories will give way to the true ones, whatever they might be, and we will be able to discern what to do from there.”

“So, wait…” Mary Jane interjects, brows furrowed, “You’re telling me that we, what, do some bondage play together and then we just play 20 questions with each other? That’s your “sacred artifact”?”

“That’d be the gist of it, yes,” Diana concedes, already offering her the other end of the rope, “So, do you want to breach the veil that is obfuscating your life, no matter how painful the truth might be, or would you prefer to remain in the blessed ignorance you are in now?”

Peter gives them a worried look, brows furrowed in confusion, “Hold on, what are you talking about, what truth?”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Mary Jane interjects with a determined tone, “Tie me up, princess.”

Wonder Woman nods, suddenly with a serious, resolute face, as she rises from the chair, much to Peter’s growing befuddlement, and crosses the table, and goes to gently tying the Lasso around her midsection and holding it in her hand.

“Ok, I don’t feel any different,” Mary Jane comments, testing the tightness of the rope beneath her bust with her free arms, “Let’s check it out, ask me something, something I wouldn’t like to answer in present company.”

“Fine, here’s a freebie: who gives better head, me or Peter?” Felicia asks, suddenly absorbed with the whole situation as she moves from her spot on the grimy wall and approaches the table, giving Mary Jane an expectant and interested look.

“Obviously you Felicia,” Mary Jane comments with a scoff, the rope glowing golden, “And don’t look at me like that Peter, you’re good but you’re not Black Cat levels of good, your ego will survive this hit, and Felicia, please, try to throw me a harder question next time,”

“It’s working,” Diana comments, holding the rope in her hand as it still glows, “I think we can start inquiring about the real reason for this little game”

“Again, this is really charming and a such a fun bonding activity, but I’d like for all of you to stop trying to pull the pronoun game act and tell me exactly what the devil are any of you talking about?!” Peter asks, getting peeved by the lack of answers and the surreality of the situation.

“An explanation will be given to you soon enough Spider-Man, but not from me, I have no right to tell any of this to you, she does” Diana placates him, gesturing to the tied-up Mary Jane, an expectant look on the redhead face, before finally addressing her with a question, “Now, answer me Mary Jane, have you ever been married to anyone in this room?”

Peter’s breath catches at Diana’s unexpected words, some vague memories and feelings stirring deep inside him, as Mary Jane’s eyes glaze over and the rope around her waist glows golden.

“Y-yes.” Mary Jane says, brows furrowing as she hears herself, “Yes I was.”

“Hold on, what? What’s going on here?” Peter exclaims, raising from his sit, “Is this, what, some weird joke to tell me you got married in Vegas or something? I can’t believe you Felicia, you’ve been barely together for a year!”

“What! of course we didn’t get married, you dumbass!” Felicia exclaims, eyes widening, “Hold on, wold on, unless we DID and I also forgot about it- Fuck, MJ? Red? Were we the ones who got married here? Fuck, I’d like to laugh about this shit but I can’t be married yet Red, not even to you, don’t get me wrong I love you and all but I’m not ready for that step, there are still so many people I want to-!”

“I’ve never been married to you, Felicia,” Mary Jane interrupts her, her brow distending and a small smile forming on her lips, “But I’m glad to know you love me Cat, didn’t even have to use this thing on you to let you admit that one.”

Mephisto’s realm suddenly freezes over and pigs all over the world suddenly discover a safe and replicable way to achieve the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow as Felicia’s cheeks redden with an embarrassed blush.

“Hold on, then who were you married to?” Peter asks, suddenly interjecting, “I mean, it obviously can’t be me, we tried but then-”

“A fat man sat on top of you, yes, I know,” Mary Jane says, the small moment of respite gone as her brows furrow once more as the Lasso extracts the truth from her, “Except that was a lie, no fat man ever sat on top of you making you late for our wedding, and I would never stop us from getting married just for that, after all the shit we went through together, so… It was you Peter; I’ve been married to you ever since then but then something made us forget.”

“W-what?” Peter asks, shocked, feeling his knees weak as he dumps himself back on his chair, “That’s… that’s impossible, that’s not true, I would remember-”

“Like you remember me and my world, Spider-Man?” Wonder Woman interjects, deep in thought, “I assume this must be some sort of side effect of the phenomenon effecting our twin worlds, altering their memories as they see fit. Maybe your marriage was some sort of key feature that allowed our realities to merge, or maybe Mary Jane is the offspring of travelers from my world, so your union with her might threaten this masquerade that has been going on between our universes, or maybe it’s something completely unrelated and it’s just a coincidence that we’re stumbling upon it now, just like it was a really lucky coincidence we stumbled upon each other last night-“

“I’m sorry hot stuff, but I think is a bit more complicated than that” Felicia interject with a grimace, “But neither me nor Spider-Man haven’t survived this line of work this long if I started believing in coincidences, especially given how creating bad luck is one of my powers. Someone is trying to mess with us, first with you, then with this whole marriage bullshit, and I want to know who.”

She turns toward Mary Jane, her gaze softening, “Mary Jane, honey, do you remember when and why you and Peter lost your memories of being married? Or why seeing this woman made you remember about them?”

“N-no, I mean, yes, I mean-” Mary Jane’s skin started reddening for the exertion, tears forming at the corner of her eyes, “Fuck, it’s like there’s a red mist fucking up my memories- god, it hurts so much to remember!”

“Ok, that’s enough, untie her Princess,” Peter interjects, a worried look on his face as he attempts to grab her hand of the lasso.

“No, wait, I can handle it!” Mary Jane yells, drenched with sweat now, even as the Lasso glows brighter, trying to contain a groan of pain, “I remember- I remember something, I remember something from where we lost our memories, the moment we lost our memories, during the Civil War, right at the end, I can feel it, it’s faint but it’s- it’s a-”

Mary Jane eyes widens, looking at something no one in the room can see, before she starts screaming. Her eyes roll back her eyes, a trail of blood running down her nose, her wails reverberating through the room as Diana quickly drops her Lasso, still burning of a bright golden, Peter and Felicia hastily going to Mary Jane almost at the same time, fumbling against the knots that keep her tied, untying her as fast as they could, Mary Jane’s voice weakening as her wailing subsides, before finally quieting as the Lasso is removed.

“Fuck, MJ? MJ?! Talk to us, please!” Peter screams, throwing the burning rope away from her as he cradles her in his arms, Felicia close by, holding her hand for dear life. Mary Jane’s breath is labored, her eyes red and puffy for the tears, but having both Peter and Felicia so close to her seems to calm her down a little, some surreptitious sniffles coming off her.

Peter and Felicia give her a worried, almost scared look as she seems unresponsive, only for her to cough, seemingly back to her senses.

“I’m- I’m fine-” She says as she coughs again, Peter and Felicia releasing a small sigh of relief at her response, “I need- I need to see more, I need to see the truth-”

“This has never happened before,” Diana comments, worried almost as much as them, the lasso back in her hand as she gives it a stunned look, “Something with equal or above strength to my Greek gods must have hidden this truth, sloppy enough to allow us to uncover about its effect, but not its cause.”

“What did you see? The last thing before it became too much to bear?” Diana asks to a still recovering Mary Jane, earning a glare from Peter and Felicia.

“I saw…” Mary Jane says, finally having calmed down, as she pats Peter and Felicia at her side, either in comfort or in admonishment we don’t know, “I saw… a woman in a red coat…

And a little girl.”

* * *

“Ok, what the fuck was any of that Diana?!” Peter asks Wonder Woman, anger marring his face, “And what did… that thing do to Mary jane?”

Mary Jane is currently resting on Peter’s awfully uncomfortable couch, her head comfortably snuggled against Felicia’s generous lap, as she absentmindedly pets the Mary Jane’s red hair, overcoming her inherent disgust for the place with only a small grimace.

“I am in as much of a loss as you are, Spider-Man,” Diana says, hands raised in a placating manner, a regretful look on her face “I would have never attempted what we did today if I’d expect such a violent reaction from anyone, let alone a non-superpowered civilian, and for that I give you and your spouse my sincerest apologies.”

“I told you it’s fine,” Mary Jane complains, the small rest allowing to overcome some of the earlier mental and physical stress from the Lasso, and trying to get back up from her resting position only to be gently but firmly pushed back down by Felicia, “I knew the risks of this and I did what I had to.” 

“No offense Red, but no, you didn’t.” Felicia interjects with a firm, serious tone, “Sex on legs over there didn’t mention anything about you reacting like that when she decided to tie you up, something you definitely didn’t need to do given how she could have tied him instead and ask him about this whole marriage business. Why do you care if you ever been married to Peter anyway, you aren’t even together right now, let alone engaged!”

“But what if we are?” Mary Jane asks, this time managing to sit up on the couch despite Felicia’s protests, “What if whatever did that to us, whatever this… woman in a red coat is, simply altered everyone’s memories of our lives? Would that make me and Peter still married? Our separation wasn’t mutual in the slightest if it was based on altered memories, our consent was never included in the deal, wouldn’t you want to know if someone did that to you?”

“But what if it was a mutual separation?” Felicia asks, her eyes softening as she grabs Mary Jane’s hands in hers, “What would have happened if any of us got our memories back and it turns out you two actually wanted it to happen? That you, like, got divorced except more stupid and complicated?”

“That would never happen,” Mary Jane comments, her tone resolute as she shakes her head in denial, “It’d be something above us if that was the case, something like a life and death scenario, outside of our control, or some villain messing with us, no one in their right mind would ever go to this length rather than simply get a divorce without a very good reason.”

“You said we lost our memories right at the end of the Civil War, the first one, right?” Peter finally says, getting the two women attention, brows furrowed, deep in thought, “I revealed my identity to the world during that Civil War, because I decided to be a idiot and trust a man with fucking concentration camps in the negative zone-”

“Peter, you can’t blame yourself for that, you didn’t know about the camps or the child soldiers yet back then, and even if you did me and Aunt May still convinced you to-“ Mary Jane interrupts him, standing up from her sit and going to him, Felicia close behind.

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is that I still revealed my identity to the world then, and then had Doctor Strange wipe everyone’s memory of that ever happening,” Peter interrupts her back, his tone getting more animated even as Mary Jane grabs his hands in hers and squeezes “What if… what if that’s the reason why this happened? What if, so that I could make such a selfish request, in order to make people forget about my mistake, I had to sacrifice one of the very few good things I had in my life?”

“Well, wouldn’t be just like you Spider, yet another self-sacrificing bullshit to add to your list of self-sacrificing Bullshit that ruined your life and the one of everyone around you,” Felicia interjects, tone dripping with sarcasm and bitterness, “Naaaah, that doesn’t sound like something Stephen Strange of all people would ask, especially not to one of his allies during the war, this is something more Loki’s style, that bastard, or maybe Doom if your wife happened to be Susan Storm. What I think, is that it must have been something bigger, something greater than some stage magician or mad scientist, and I think our favorite amazon princess thinks so too, don’t you Diana?”

They all turn toward Diana, the Black Cat smirking, the maybe, maybe not married couple beside her with equally puzzled looks.

“The white-haired beauty is right, Spider-Man,” Diana says, her stern look going particularly well with her severe librarian outfit, “No mere mortal sorcerer or warlock would be able to hide its work so well to the Lasso, even to just cover their tracks. Something of clear divine nature must be a play, and as I saw from your world’s Wikipedia, there seem to be a discrete amount of divine beings currently residing on earth, do they not?”

“So, Loki then?” Peter says, puzzled more than before, “Except why would he do that, and to me? We barely know each other, we aren’t even enemies, hell, I even helped him reconnect with his daughter back then, dude told me he owed me a favor or something…”

“He’s not the only god around here,” Mary Jane interjects, a grim resolve setting on her, “Maybe it was one of the other Asgardian gods, or maybe some of the demons. Maybe it was really one of your enemies, someone who knew us and wanted to mess with us and deciding to contact someone else to do the dirty work for him.”

“Fuck, back then everyone knew who I was and who you were for me, this doesn’t really reduce the number of suspects,” Peter curses, making Felicia flinch at his outburst, “And even if we managed to get to them, what’d that bring us? Do we force them to lift the fake memories? And what happens then, do we, what, suddenly get back together like nothing happened? Or do we stay separated except now there is the glaring issue that we are married? And what about you and Felicia, do the two of you stop being together just because I’m here again?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that last one too much, if you two want to get back to your heterosexual married monogamous bliss and leave me to my own devices, I’m sure I’ll find something else to keep myself amused, I don’t really care all that much either way” Felicia lies, pretty badly at that, knowing full well how much she was lying and how much everyone definitely knew she was lying, but doubling down on it with a steely glare toward Peter, daring him to call her out.

“Yeah, no, it’d be more likely for the two of you to stay together and for nothing to really change for me,” Peter interjects, turning toward the two, now fully facing each of them, “Honestly, both of you are way too good for me and I’d rather for you to find happiness together than be dragged down by me turning into Ross from Friends.”

Mary Jane and Felicia gasp in outrage at his words, “Peter Benjamin Parker, you take that back this instant!” Mary Jane demands, evident anger in her voice, “I’m not allowing anyone, not even you, to insult my favorite spider themed superhero by comparing him to that bastard!”

“Yeah, if you want to compare yourself to anyone, compare yourself to Archie from Riverdale at least,” Felicia points out with a smirk, “Except we are both Veronica, we are nearly not as underage as them while being way hotter, and whoever is controlling our lives is allowing me and Red to get together and fuck rather than be cowards and pair either of us with Cody from Zack and Cody-”

“I know this isn’t really the time and place,” Diana interjects in their argument, getting back’s everyone’s attention, “But I think I have a way to resolve at least this conundrum-”

“Yeah, no offense Diana but I don’t think we want to play your Extreme Rules 20 Questions anymore,” Peter interrupts her, earning an apologetic look from Diana, who nevertheless continues on.

“It will involve nothing of the sort this time Spider-Man, in fact, I think you will all greatly enjoy it,” She replies with a placating smile, “Now, from what little I could see of you three, I can tell there are some strong, mutual bonds among each and all of you, all different but all based on years of partnership and respect, and I think you should not waste it on such petty squabbles and simply… enjoy your love together, all the three of them.”

“Wait…” Peter asks with a stunned look, “You’re asking us to… get together? All the three of us? Married or not married?”

“Yes.” Diana responds with an understanding smile, “That is, if the three of you are ok with it, of course.”

Peter gulps, looking at two of the most important women in his life with a lost look, a look mirrored by Felicia, sudden fear creeping on her at the prospect of such a big step, mixed with the potential fun she’d be able to get from it, both at a loss of words.

Mary Jane is the only one not shaken enough by Diana’s words to answer her.

“That’d be nice, Diana, but I don’t think it’d be that easy. Peter has many enemies going after him, and there is this thing fucking with our memories of each other making us act stupid and break up, and while I do love both him and Felicia, I don’t want to impose on either of them-”

“But why would you impose anything on them, Mary Jane?” Diana responds, tone controlled and firm, as if she’s about to give a lecture she had given many times before, “Amazon culture is based on safe, mutual and consensual love between people, be them man or women, or be them a couple or multiple individuals, and I can’t see why the three of you should abandon this love you have for each other just because man’s world regressive society deems it immoral or unfair. We should all join in a loving, caring community, regardless of absurd prejudices and bigotry, and embrace our love for one another, be it our loved ones, or friends we trust enough to accept into our fold.”

“In fact,” Diana continues after a small pause, a cunning smile arching her lips, “I think I have the perfect way to demonstrate just that.”

She goes near Peter, now standing beside him, Mary Jane and Felicia right in front of her, “Yesterday, I attempted to conquer this man in order to take something from him. I realize now, however, even if he managed to repel me in sacred combat, that what I asked him and what he offered me wasn’t his to give away, but it belonged to you, Mary Jane.”

“Look, I understand what you’re trying to do, but no. No one belongs to anyone here,” Mary Jane interrupts her with a grimace, “we are all our own person, and neither of us even remembered we were married yesterday, hell, some of us still don’t do, so I don’t hold it against you that-”

“Oh, but I insist,” She urgently interjects, “For you to take satisfaction on me, and the man that bargained with something that wasn’t his anymore, by making of us exactly what I wanted to make of him, maybe while assisted by your fair companion over there?”

“Wait…” Peter asks, his confused frown only getting more and more distended as he realizes what is Wonder Woman trying to say, “You mean that they should…” He gulps, loudly, “Fuck us? The two of us?”

“Mmmmm, never took you for a bottom or a sub, princess,” Felicia says, a delighted shine in her eyes as his mouth quirks into a sly smirk, “And I that I was already picturing as the big bad evil dominatrix of my dreams after last night…”

“As I said before, Amazon society is not restrained by such petty notions when it comes to, well, restraining people,” Wonder Woman returns explaining again, “Submission is by no mean a show of weakness by someone or even to someone. In fact, it is through the humbling of defeat, of facing our mistakes and not getting crushed by them, that we are allowed us to become better warriors, better people, and sexual enslavement, among other things, albeit only when voluntary and consensual, and only if it can be stopped at any time by either party, can be a relaxing and delightful activity lovers can take part in, no matter what sex they might be. It is, in fact, a misconception that puts penetrative and dominating sex as an empowering role, a misconception perpetrated by Man’s World abusive and misogynistic society, while degrading the joys of letting yourself go with the ones you love and trust as something lesser, usually by associating it with women’s more traditional roles of child bearing and submissiveness.”

“God, it’s like getting a lecture from your high school’s hot teacher” Felicia Comments with a small whimper, “Except the lecture is about how empowering and feminist it would be for you to tie her up in a shibari knot and have her eat you. Fuck it, I’m in, what about you Red?”

“I don’t know…” Mary Jane begins, hugging her arms around her as she gives both Diana and Peter an unsure look, “What about you, Peter, are you ok with any of this?”

Peter gulps, shooting the three women in the room frantic, wide eyed looks.

He slowly gulps, Adam apple wobbling, before he starts talking, “I mean, I… I don’t know, are _you_ ok with this?”

“I asked you first, you dummy,” Mary Jane answers with a small, almost bashful smile as she carefully ponders her words, “But if I must answer truthfully, and you do not need a magical rope to make me say the truth this time, I think I’d… love to share this new experience with you and Felicia, I’m sure it will make me understand what really is important from me, or at least take my mind of all of this.”

“So, what do you say, tiger?” Mary Jane asks, voice just low enough to be smoky, her eyes smoldering him on the spot, “Want to do this with us? And by this, I mean sex, do you want to have sex with us again, all of us this time?”

Peter gulps again, suddenly very thirsty, “I- I mean, sure, ok, cool for me, I’ll go… set up the room back there and-”

“We destroyed your bedroom last night Spider-Man, don’t you remember?” Wonder Woman points out, gently but firmly grabbing him by the back of the pink robe he was still wearing and holding him up by one hand, his feet now some meters away from the ground and flailing helplessly in the void as she stops him from leaving the room, “I’m afraid our new… mistresses will have to make do with this room if they want to properly punish us.”

“Ooooh, mistresses, I like the sound of that,” Felicia states with a wicked grin, “Alright Spider, same word as ever if any of us finds it too overwhelming and wants to call quits or do you have a new one for every new girl you want to get a bit experimental with?”

Peter shakes his head, still reeling for the sudden and not that unwelcome sensation of being manhandled by Wonder Woman in such a way, even outside of her costume, “N-nope, we use the same as always, which is-”

“Goblin” All three women concluded his sentence at the same time, a shared bewildered look crossing the three of them before descending into some small giggles.

“Fine, bare minimum done, safe word set, something anyone’s here is uncomfortable with we should know?” Felicia states, already removing her jewelry and putting it on the grimy kitchen counter with a disgusted grimace, “For example, I’d really love if we didn’t do any kind of rape play if possible, it tends to trigger some really awful memories in me and I like to have fun when having sex if you don’t mind, anyone else has similar requests?”

“I am willing to submit to anything you ask of me,” Diana says as she drops Peter on the ground, causing him to yelp, yet thankfully still managing to land on his feet, “However, I might understand if you are uncomfortable with using my Lasso of truth during our punishment after its previous display. I suggest you use one of Spider-Man’s ingenious weapons instead in case either of you wanted to restrain us, I think we left a still intact one back under the couch here.”

“Ah, here it is,” Mary Jane exclaims as she lowers herself and grabs the familiar shape under the ratty couch, fastening it to her wrist as she gets back up, “Mmmmm, and with still enough charge to last us for a couple ours it seems, perfect!”

“You got any conditions Pete? Anything we’re not allowed to do to you?” Mary Jane asks then, a relaxed and open smile on her face, which makes something inside Peter throb.

“I… I’m fine with anything really, I just want you two to have fun.”

“Awwww, always the gentleman, aren’t you Spider? Only wanting what’s best for his girls…” Felicia coos. Then, like a switch has been turned on, a determined frown crosses her face, “But we don’t want you to be a gentleman now, don’t we… Mistress Red?”

“No, we definitely do not, don’t we Mistress… Cat?” Mary Jane replies with some discomfort, hugging her arms beneath her bust.

“Mmmmm, Mistress Cat’s fine dear,” Felicia whispers in Mary Jane’s ear, kissing her lobe before leaving and going to the two standing Superheroes, almost not noticing the small shiver running down Mary Jane’s spine, “Now, my cute, little naughty pets, what should we ever do with you?”

Peter freezes as Black Cat saunters over him, her hips swaying just a little in her tight skirt, his breath hitching as something inside him begins to stir.

“We’re ready to accept whatever punishment you might see fit, Mistress,” Wonder Woman says, the ease she manages to slip in a submissive persona despite still looking like a 1 and 90 meters sex goddess dressed like a boring museum curator second to none, “We-“

“Tch tch tch,” Felicia stops her, seemingly annoyed, before raising her hand to place a finger on her mouth, “Shush pet, and get on your knees, gaze down to our feet, that’ll show you your place, beneath both of us, right we Mistress Red?”

“W-wha- Oh- yeah, r-right!” Mary Jane replies, slightly off balance and flustered as she gets closer to Diana, now dutifully kneeling on the ground, the long skirt cushioning her knees, and Felicia and Peter, before whispering under her breath, “Fuck, I never been the one in charge before, at least not like this-”

“Hey, relax red,” Felicia whispers to her, making sure neither of their new playmates could hear her, “I’m sure you’ll do great, I know you, you’re going to be a natural, just relax and do what you want to them, they’re all yours till you say so.”

Mary Jane sighs, steeling herself, eyes closed momentarily, before opening them once more, all traces of unsureness seemingly gone, “Fine, if we want to do this, we’re doing this right. Tiger, take off my damn robe, I don’t want you to ruin it more than you’ve already done.”

Peter hesitates, only for a moment, before getting quickly to untie the frilly pink robe under her commanding glare. He almost drops it on the floor but manages to catch himself at the same time before accurately folding it and, very carefully, placing it on the nearby dinner table, earning a satisfied hum from Mary Jane.

“Mmmmm, passable job.” She comments, tone dripping with scorn, “But we’ll make do with what we have, now, get back here and show me the goods.”

Peter blushes slightly as he turns back to the three women, showing his naked body and the constellation of bruises and marks Diana left him last night, as well as his now semi erect cock. He feels a slight chill at the morning air, but he’s sure if the brunt of the stares he’s feeling right now is anything to go by he’ll not be feeling cold anymore any time soon.

Mary Jane’s breath catches, “Look at you, all marked and bruised, did a villain do this to you or did you let this bitch do it?”

Peter Gulps, averting his gaze from her as he answers, “She- She did this to me, but it’s not her fault, I-”

“Silence, you dumb slut,” Mary Jane insults him, and the whiplash of the feeling makes him turn toward her, catching only a small glimpse of uncertainty before her eyes settle on his now hardening cock, a smirk blooming on her face, “As if I care about one of your usual excuses, always soooo ready to sacrifice yourself for others aren’t you?”

She stomps toward him, poking his bare chest with her finger, “You might be smart Peter Parker but you sure are dumb when it comes to getting your dick wet. And I think me and Fel- Mistress Cat will need to train this out of you, don’t we dear?”

Felicia, who was currently enjoying the show of Mary Jane berating a naked Peter Parker with a grin, licks her lips at her words, “Oh, I don’t think I can even begin to imagine a better way to pass this morning, honey.”

“Get back there and move the couch so it’s facing us with those dumb spider muscles of yours, then kneel down like her, facing away from us toward the couch, hands behind your back.” Mary Jane commands, Peter doing as he was told as he hurries toward the couch and moves it by 180° degrees, his muscles barely straining for the feat but still earning some appreciating looks from Felicia and Mary Jane.

“Now, you, you slut, crawl there to him and kneel beside him like he’s doing, and do it on your hands and knees, I want to see that ass bounce!” Felicia commands with a smirk, licking her lips in anticipation.

“Yes, Mistress Cat,” Diana quickly answers, crawling toward Peter, before dutifully doing as she was told, taking her place beside him.

“Good girl,” Felicia comments, praising the amazon with a smirk as Mary Jane joins her, admiring the two kneeling superheroes giving they backs to them, “It almost makes me sad we have to punish her now. Almost.”

Without warning, Mary Jane shoots a web at Peter’s hands, making him yelp as he feels the cold sensation sealing them together for the time being. He manages to stay as still as possible, his breath hitching in his throat as he can hear both Mary Jane and Felicia getting near him.

“Mmmmm, how long I waited to finally use these things on you,” Mary Jane whimpers, relishing in the power of finally being the one tying up Peter rather than being the one being tied up, “Now, stay still and do not turn no matter what you hear, do you understand?”

“Yes…”

Felicia kicks him in the back with the back of her foot, her heel digging against his spine, making him yelp “Yes what, Spider-Slut?”

“Y-yes… mistress?” he says with a blush, realizing just now Felicia must have also been hearing them last night on that roof while she was taking their photos.

“And don’t forget it, or the next place I’m gona stab this heel is going to be right down your thick, dumb spider-ass!” Felicia warns him, the threat only causing Peter’s breath to catch and his dick to harden even more if possible, now finally at full length.

“Pet, crawl back a little on your knees, out of his field of view,” Mary Jane instructs, Diana quickly following her orders, “And now, stand still, Mistress is going to get you out of those unflattering things.”

Mary Jane kneels behind Diana, hands sneaking by her sides and squeezing Diana’s covered bosom, a small whimper escaping the amazon’s mouth as Mary Jane starts kissing her exposed neck, “Mmmmm, what do we have here…” Mary Jane chuckles against Diana’s ear, hands going to her grey jacket and wiggling it off of her with some difficulty due to Diana’s awkward position, dropping it on the floor before going to the buttons of her blouse and starts unbuttoning it from behind.

Peter doesn’t dare move as he hears the rumpling of fabric behind him, nor as he hears a second set of steps start approaching him.

“Awww, poor little Spider, so neglected by his mistresses, can’t even play with his web shooter while he waits,” Felicia coos as she circumvents him. She primly sits on the couch again, without even much of a grimace, absentmindedly dusting her lap.

She stretches her arms upward with a half-contained yawn, her breasts wobbling at her actions, before looking down on him with a lazy smirk, “Mmmmm, you naughty Spider, I saw you how much you liked our new pet’s feet, and yet you never let me play with you with mine, so mean…” She easily slips her heels off her feet off, first her left and then her right, gently rubbing her right one with a hand as she brings them to her left side on the couch, a small groan escaping her lips, “But I know just the way we can rectify that, crawl over here and open your mouth, slut.”

Mary Jane finally finishes to unbutton Diana’s tight blouse, hastily slipping it off, Diana going slack and allowing her to freely manipulate her limbs, as Mary Jane comes face to face with the back of her plain, white cotton bra. She begins unclasping it with practiced ease, freeing her ample breasts as she discards the bra to the side, before returning to squeeze them with her hand from behind.

“Look at those jugs,” Mary Jane says, a smirk on her lips as she keeps feeling the Amazon up, not missing the small groan coming out Diana’s lips, “So soft and full, if I wasn’t touching them right now, I’d never guess those things were real,”

“B-but they are, mistress,” Diana comments with some labored breaths, “I have no need to work on my body, for it is a gift from the gods themselves for my mother and all Amazons, crafted from mud and saltwater to create the perfect woman.”

“Perfect woman indeed,” Mary Jane murmurs, squeezing harder as Diana can’t contain her moan. Mary Jane’s right hand sneaks down Diana’s well-defined abs, small, gentle grazes as she feels their firmness as they tense under her touch, before hovering over the hem of her skirt and her lower belly, her mouth pressing against Diana’s neck and sucking on it, attempting to leave a mark against her tough yet oh so delicate skin.

With a smacking sound, she moves away from Diana’s neck, her touch on her gone as soon as it had come as Mary Jane begins to stand up, ignoring Diana’s needy whine as she moves between her and Peter, easily slipping off her flats as she starts unbuttoning her jeans, her back to her as her thumbs hook the hem of her pants and start slowly lowering them down, revealing her firm, defined ass, covered by red silk panties, not as thick as Peter’s, but still big and defined enough to take away the breath of the kneeling amazon behind her, a smirk coming to the redhead face at the sound.

Then, slowly, she slips off her panties too, bending over to give Diana a better view of her backside, gathering them in a ball, feeling the slight dampness of them as she keeps them in her fist, her glistening pussy and its trimmed red strip of hair tantalizingly close to Diana’s watering mouth.

“Enjoying the show?” Mary Jane airily says, wiggling her assets right in front of the Amazon, not noticing as Diana licks her lips in anticipation.

“Turn your back to them, I want to enjoy the show while you eat me, and you are not allowed to touch yourself, your hands will be on my tights at all times, try not to crush them sweetheart. Oh, and keep the glasses on.” She cheekily commands as she moves her ass away from the Amazon’s face and saunters behind her, removing her jacket and unbuttoning her blouse, only to drop them on the nearby floor alongside her balled up panties.

Diana is stoically enduring the loss as she awkwardly turns her back to follow her, Mary Jane easily crossing Diana’s shoulders with her legs, her tights resting around the Amazon’s face, Diana’s hands expertly running up to her to balance her as Mary Jane’s moist pussy crashes against Diana’s waiting mouth, her glasses awkwardly encased between the redhead’s tights as she looks up to her, her tongue eagerly going to work against her wet, waiting lips as Mary Jane literally rides Wonder Woman’s face, one hand securely grasping Diana’s still tightly tied hair, undoing the sever knot that was holding them together before truly starting to ride her face with a barely contained moan, her eyes firmly on the spectacle in front of her.

Without the help of his hands, Peter can’t do anything but eagerly lap at the Black Cat’s left feet. She’d been running around all night, without even the time for a quick shower before having to change and follow Mary Jane to Peter’s slum of an apartment, sweat sticking to her body in an uncomfortable and almost sticky way, greatly enjoying the relief of her tired sole as it was gently and carefully getting licked by Peter, her other feet lazily rubbing his hardness as she sat slumped on the lumpy couch.

“Look at you Spider, you can’t get enough of my stinky feet, can’t you?” She comments, one hand sneaking down the hem of her skirt and unbuttoning it at the front, a content groan escaping her lips as peter’s tongue kept lapping at her salty sole, eagerly giving her tense and tired muscles some relief “Mmmmm, I bet you always wanted to but never dared ask me, yet here you are polishing my foot like the naughty little spider-slut you are.”

She pushes against his face with her sole, gently but firmly, before sliding down her foot so her toe is pushing against his mouth, parting in a small oh as she easily slides it inside, alongside a good part of her dainty foot, his eyes closed as he hums, her other foot expertly toying with his cock, peeling his foreskin down with an expert motion and revealing his cockhead. She rubs her sole against it, delighting herself with his muffled moan and the precum that starts staining her sole.

“Look at me.” She commands, and Peter’s eyes snap open, looking up at her. She starts unbuttoning her blouse, deliberately slowly, as she removes it and drops it on her side of the couch. She had not been wearing a bra, as she usually doesn’t under her suit, not having found the time nor the desire to put one on before leaving home, and she is currently pressing her large boobs together with a cheeky grin, Peter’s ministrations on her foot only getting more enthusiastic at her display.

He could hear Mary Jane’s needy, loud moans behind him, his cock hardening at the familiar sound, cursing the fact he wasn’t able to see what was getting her so hot and bothered. Was it the sight of him, humiliated by one of his ex-girlfriends right in front of her? Was it Felicia with her voluptuous body and display of dominance? Or was It something Diana was doing to her, something he couldn’t see yet?

Felicia starts pressing against his length, pushing it against his toned muscles, gently, before starting to rub it between her toes, up and down. Her toe sliding off his mouth in one, swift motion, before gliding down to his toned pecs, pushing him back with some force.

“However, this doesn’t look like a punishment at all now, Spider,” She comments with a pout, making her boobs giggle as she squeezes them together, “Get on that filthy floor, face up, ass down, legs spread, your back raised and resting on your elbows and tied hands, and don’t you dare look behind you if you know what’s good for you!”

Peter hastily obliges, untangling his sore legs off his kneeling position as he sits on his ass on the beaten down and weary, hard floor, propping himself up by his elbow from behind, legs stretched in front of him and spread in front of her, wiggling slightly toward her sit on the couch, her feet hovering over his erection.

“Good boy, good kitty,” Felicia drawl, her praises contrasting with the wicked smirk on her face as she brings her feet down on him, making him yowl in pain, his enhanced body and spider-dick quickly recovering from the blow, even as she keeps stomping on his length and balls with both feet, rubbing and pushing down on him with some force for a couple seconds, every time her soles came in contact with his organs.

“And that was for making Red cry over your dumb marriage,” She airily comments, just a hint of venom in her voice, a feral smirk on her face as she squeezes and stomps down on his fat cock beneath with one foot, the other sliding down to tickle, tantalizingly close his balls, Peter’s breath catching as he whines, bracing himself for the prospect of a full on kick coming from the cat burglar, while still not wanting to use the agreed safeword yet.

She relents her pressure, if just barely, feet getting back to his length and started massaging it, slick with his saliva and precum, jerking him off with rough, deep strokes, his whines of pain swiftly turning into barely contain moans of pleasure.

Mary Jane, meanwhile, is riding Diana’s face for dear life. She has discarded her jacket, one hand hastily going to the hem of her shirt and yanking it off, moaning as Diana expert tongue keeps lapping at her entrance, grinding against the Amazon’s face. Diana is looking up, straight to the buckling redhead above her, as she unclasps her bra, hands arched behind her back and unhooking it, freeing her own orbs much to Diana and Felicia’s delight.

She’s breathing heavily, her eyes fixed on the spectacle in front of her, Peter, the man who had meant more for her than any man before or after him, getting so thoughtfully humiliated and hurt by Felicia’s feet, the woman who had become such a new, scarily important fixture in her life, and she doesn’t know if she should feel jealous or either envious of either of them, she doesn’t know what to go from there, if she should follow Diana’s advice and go for it, or if she should run away from all of this.

What she does know, however, is that they are both so goddamn hot, there displaying all that just for her, and that her pussy is getting toughly tongue fucked by the woman beneath her, and that’s enough for her for now.

She moans once again, Diana’s grip against her tights getting stronger as she hears her, yet still gentle enough to not hurt her, as her eyes flutter close, biting on her lower lips as she comes against the amazon’s mouth without warning. She keeps at it, riding her orgasm, the familiar sound catching Felicia’s attention, looking at her hungrily from her sit, and most likely Peter as his stiff, frozen stance seems to be any indication.

“Good work pet, it shows you’ve been trained well,” She says as she dismounts Diana, legs wobbling a little, “Now, I think it’s time to switch it up a little. Move along with me, on your hands and knees.”

Diana does as she’s told, crawling with Mary Jane as she saunters toward Peter and Felicia, a grin on her face. She ignores Diana’s needy moan for the neglect her own sex is facing, reaching her girlfriend and, bending over a little, hand on her chin as she starts kissing her, Mary Jane’s tongue easily slipping inside her mouth as she explored the familiar hole, grinning as she feels more than hears Felicia’s barely disguised moan against her mouth.

“Mistress Cat, And I that I thought you were the one supposed to get my tongue…” She cheekily says, breaking the kiss as she earns a whine from Felicia, “Do you mind if I play with my maybe-not maybe husband for a while? I promise to give it back to you later.”

“Mmmmm, only if you let me play with our new friends instead, Mistress Red,” Felicia says with only the smallest of huffs, giving a small peck against MJ’s nose as she already starts removing herself from Peter’s aching cock as he stares at the sapphic display in front of him with wide eyes.

“Awww, look at you Spider, already drooling, I bet this must be one of your greatest dreams,” Felicia coos as she notices his stare, a red blush reddening his cheeks as she stands up, going up to Diana and not even deigning him of a glance, wet feet flapping against the floor, “Or greatest nightmare more like, It’s not like there’s any great difference when it comes to you.”

Before he can say anything, Mary Jane is already hovering over him, straddling his hips as she positions her slick, sensitive entrance over his abused length, hesitating only a little as she grips Peter’s cock in her hand and squeezes, aiming it to her entrance, the reality of what she’s about to do hitting her for the first time in the morning.

“MJ, are you sur-” He begins saying, worried for her, before she lowers herself on his cock with one, fluid motion, her entrance quickly adjusting to the familiar size and shape as she manages to take it all to the root, knocking the breath out of him.

“No self-doubts today, tiger,” She says, her determined glare lessened slightly by the ecstatic whimper coming out of her as she finally feels him inside her for the first time in months, “Now, fuck me, fuck me like we used to do, back in a world where we were still married.”

She starts moving, his hips moving almost by their own, synchronized with hers, a perfect harmony as they each buckle against each other. She lowers herself, hugging him by his sides, and kisses him, Peter cursing his tied hands for being unable to touch her, the feeling of her mouth on his, the taste of another woman’s pussy on her, her tongue forcing herself against his and wrestling it into submission sending jolts down his spine, her hands sneaking over his pecs and abs and squeezing his muscles, confirming their shape to memory, pinpricks of tears forming on the edges of both their eyes, they don’t even know why, as a breathy whine comes out her mouth against his, lowering his head with one hand as she breaks the kiss, pressing his mouth against her exposed neck and collarbone.

“Ugh, stupid lovebirds,” Felicia mutters with just a hint of scorn, looking down at the hunched down amazon, her grimace turning into a hint of a smile, “No matter, it seems I have a new pet to play with. Stay where you are, dear.”

She shakes off her skirt, revealing her bare, uncovered pussy, and the white-haired bush thereof, before going to Diana’s back. She slaps her still covered ass, making it giggle in her own, grey skirt, before unzipping it herself, then wiggling it off her thick, strong tights and back, revealing her plump backside, still clad in the amazons’ modest white cotton panties.

“Fffuck, if I knew I’d be having all this ass to myself when I came here Id have brought some of my toys with me,” Felicia complains, grabbing the hem of Diana’s panties and pulling, Diana whining softly as she feels her moist sex being mistreated, her panties pressing against it for a couple seconds before Felicia lets them go, a loud slapping sound echoing in the room as they hit her back on the ass, Diana’s ass rippling as a moan escapes her. Felicia grabs the hem again, this time in order to slip them off her, down the amazon’s legs as she slaps her backside to motion her to rise her bent knees a little, allowing her to slip Diana’s panties off her.

“Look at you, ruining your good girl panties, did my girlfriend riding you make you this much soaked you slut?” Felicia asks with a smirk, balling Diana’s panties in her fist as she feels the fluids she had been drenching them with. Before she can answer, Felicia shushes her, going to her face and giving her a soft slap, “Shut up, you’ve used that pretty mouth of yours enough, now open wide.”

Diana opens her mouth, only for Felicia di shove her wet panties inside, Diana biting down on the gag almost on instinct, a devious smirk on Felicia’s face as she hovers her hands down her back, grazing alongside Diana’s spine and back muscles as she reaches her down her ass, another small slap on it before intruding inside her waiting pussy, her tongue wetting Felicia’s lips as she slips one, two finger inside Diana and crooks them just right, Diana whines muffled by her makeshift gag.

“God look at you, the tough girl who needs no one and tries to break another woman’s Spider,” Felicia says between her own, labored breaths, not missing the irony of her own statement as she sits on her knees beneath Diana, fingers going in and out her slick pussy as she grabs her wild hair and forces her to look at the other couple in the room, “Well you didn’t manage to break them, look at them so disgustingly in love despite how much better you are at fucking them!”

Diana whines, softly, perhaps almost sympathetically, which only manages to aggravate Felicia as she speeds up her pace, a third finger going inside Diana as she glares at Peter and Mary Jane, currently in their own little world, a fire stoking in her belly she didn’t even know she still had.

* * *

Somewhere, several streets away from where our heroes are, a white furred monkey dressed in a black business suit is eating a banana hunched down the top of an unlit streetlight during a parade, enjoying the balloons in the sky. He drops the banana peel, almost absent mindedly, down on the sidewalk, miraculously missing everyone as it drops on the ground below, before jumping away, back to his day job as a hitman… ehm, hitmonkey.

Not even thirteen seconds later, Wilson Fisk, the Mayor of New York, has the bright idea to walk down that same sidewalk with his armed escort, enjoying the parade and waving to the crowd as he goes toward the makeshift stage where he’s about to give his speech, his impressive figure allowing him to easily impose himself over the cheering crowds, a smug smile on his face.

And then, by some weird stroke of bad luck, Wilson Fisk slips on that one Banana Peel, falling on his ass and trampling most of his escort with him in front of the crowd of New York Citizens who voted him into the mayor office, and the waiting cameras of the press, ready to capture his reddened expression of anger at the embarrassing slip up.

* * *

Seemingly unaware of their audience, Mary Jane keeps riding on Peter’s dick, his mouth now firmly pressed against her left boob, sucking on it as his tongue laps at her nipple, loud moans streaming off the redhead’s mouth. her eyes fluttering closed as the two pick up their hurried pace, neither being able to get enough of the other. Felicia keeps looking at them, her own neglected pussy gushing down her legs at the sight, gritting her teeth as she refuses to touch herself, almost as a question of principle, biting down Diana’s exposed shoulder as her fourth finger slipping in Diana’s pussy as her arms finally yield, face and upper body falling to the ground, her wobbly legs give way and spread even more, lowering her backside as a result, much to Felicia’s displeasure.”

“You filthy whore,” Felicia spits, some irrational pinpricks of tears coming to the edges of her eyes, lost in the moment as she glares holes on the couple in front of her, “Spider’s dick, my fingers, I bet you’d come for anyone pushing something down your pussy, not just me!”

To punctuate her statement, she slips her fifth and final finger inside, curling her fingers in a fist inside of her, Diana’s divine pussy accommodating the intrusion with some difficulty, her whimpers of discomfort, still muffled by her panties, soon turn into yowls of pleasure as Felicia outright punches her insides, hard and fast, as her muffled screams drowned by Mary Jane’s loud cries, the redhead clenching around Peter’s dick, cumming for a second time for the morning as he releases her boob, groaning as he bends his head behind and erupts inside her, his hot, sticky spider-cum.

Diana goes right over the edge soon after as she squeezes Felicia’s fist inside her, drenching her hand as she comes, before finally collapsing to the ground, spent, her breath heavy and skin reddened.

Felicia removes her fist from Diana’s quivering pussy, causing the amazon to whimper, as se admires her own drenched hand and upper arm.

“Great, now everyone has come but me,” She says in a frustrated tone, as she unconsciously rubs her tights together for a little friction, a small pout on her face, “Look at me, what a pathetic mistress, I give people the best orgasms of their lives and then they give up on me for the first husband they find, those traitors, been asking for a threesome for years and now they’ll just get back to their perfect heteronormative bullshit life with one pet and one and a half children and leave me in the dust to rot-“

She doesn’t even notice the tears flowing down her face, thankfully not ruining her waterproof make-up, nor she notices as Mary Jane removes herself from her lover, pussy, dripping some of his cum down her inner tight, before aiming her web shooter at her hands, tying them together, making her yelp in surprise as she gently hugs her, pushing her on her back, her mouth already on hers.

“As if I’d ever leave you,” Mary Jane says with barely a whisper, one hand already coming to Felicia’s neglected, drenched pussy and rubbing it, causing her to whine, “As if either of us would ever leave you after everything you did for me.”

Peter has followed her, a soft look on his face as he looks at two of the most important women in his life embraced as they are, his heart swelling at the evident affection between them as Mary Jane hungrily feasts on her lover’s mouth, swallowing her needy moans as she spreads Felicia’s legs with her own, exposing both her own, seed filled pussy, and Felicia’s, causing Peter’s dick to harden at the sight.

“I saw how you looked at him, how he looked at you when you were fucking him, when he filled you up with his cum” Felicia says, a small sob escaping her as one of Mary Jane’s fingers slides inside her, “Neither of you ever looked at me that way. No one ever looked at me that way.”

“But I’m looking at you right now.” Mary Jane murmurs back, raising herself upward so she can better look Felicia in the eyes, so she can look her better in the eye, and the way she’s looking at her, so similar to how she was looking at Peter, yet so different, makes Felicia whimper, “We are looking at you right now.”

She scuttles off her, hands going to Felicia’s spread legs and squeezing her inner tights as Peter wobbles between them with an unsure look on his face and his cock hardened once more to full length, causing Felicia’s breath to hitch.”

“So, Mistress Cat, you want to join me and my maybe husband-maybe not in some definitely not heteronormative and definitely not monogamous sex, till death do us apart?” She whispers against her hears, deftly positioning herself behind Felicia and hugging her from behind, rising her on a sitting position as she kisses her exposed neck and collarbone, hands sneaking beneath hers as she squeezes her defined stomach, hugging her close, “Peter, dear, you are not allowed to fuck her until she answer us.”

“Fuck, Mary Jane, that’s unfair,” Felicia whines, Peter dick now inches away from her entrance and hovering over her, he himself attempting to use all of his willpower to simply not trust away inside of her yet, “What if I get burned again? What if you regret it afterwards? What if HE regrets it afterwards, you know he always does!”

“He never had a taste of both of us at the same time, Cat,” Mary Jane replies, offering a lazy smirk from behind Felicia’s head to Peter, “And you never had both of us at the same time before, this is something new and amazing and scary but no matter what it’s gona happen now, no matter if we’re married or not or if the world is really out to get us, we’re going to face this together.”

“Fffuck, I’m never been good with the sappy shit,” Felicia whines, attempting to undo the bonds at her hands, “Ok, fine, we’re doing this, together, just… don’t leave me, ok? Please?”

“As if we’d ever do it.” Mary Jane breaths, before giving Peter a nod. He finally slips inside her with a satisfied groan, mirrored by Felicia as her pussy is finally filled.

“Fffuck!” Felicia curses, biting her lower lip as she adjusts to size, the familiarity of it sending jolts down her spine “I had forgotten how big you were, Spider.”

He starts thrusting, slowly, quickening his pace, followed suit by Felicia as Mary Jane keeps holding her from behind for dear life, squeezing Felicia large bosom. Peter kisses her, hard, before switching to Felicia, the platinum blonde moaning against his mouth as their tongues strangled each other in their joined mouths. One of Mary Jane’s hands sneaks down her belly, rubbing against Felicia’s hard nub, her moans swallowed by Peter’s mouth

“God, Felicia you were right, we really needed to bring some of our toys here,” Mary Jane comments with a small whine, biting her lower lip at the sight of her two lovers fucking right on top of her, “What’d I give for a strap right now to fuck your ass with while he fucks you.”

“Mmmmm, what I’d give for a strap to fuck his ass with while he fucks you instead,” Felicia replies with a needy moan, her breath getting shallower and shallower as her inside squeeze Peter’s dick for dear life, “I can already see myself, fucking Peter’s man-pussy as I fuck him into you, gggod that’d be so fucking hot!”

Peter whines, and he must now try twice as hard not to come again at Felicia’s words, his moan earning another groan in return from Felicia.

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you Peter?” Mary Jane whispers, a wicked smile on her face as she doubles her efforts on Felicia’s pussy. “You’d love to get your thick spider-ass fucked by the big, bad black cat as you fuck your sweet little girlfriend? Or maybe you’d prefer for your feisty, scorned wife to fuck your ass as you eat out the naughty pussy she just caught you filling with your milk?”

He whines in response, not able to form words as he hungrily devours Felicia’s mouth, his ass contracting in reflex as her pillow like boobs press against his chest, Mary Jane’s face getting incredibly close to his hear, giving it a wet peck.

“Or maybe you just want to see me getting stuffed, don’t you Tiger? With your cock, Felicia’s cock, maybe I’ll even let you fuck my ass, let you pop my anal cherry” she breaths, egging him on as Felicia gets so very close, “Let you really hit the Jackpot this time.”

Peter’s eyes widen as he can’t control himself anymore, erupting inside Felicia’s pussy, the sensation of getting filled, mixed with his thrusting and Mary Jane’s expert hands getting Felicia right over the edge soon after, loudly cumming with a whine, squirting all over his cock.

The three slumps down on top of each other, a pile on the floor quickly tumbling down on the floor.

“Note to self, bring strap everywhere we go from now on,” Felicia says with a groan of discomfort, “Also, maybe do not have an orgy on some cheap floor at… ten in the fucking morning, god is so early and this shit is so fucking uncomfortable! I don’t care what you say Spider, first thing we do if find you better furniture, hell maybe a better apartment, you can’t keep leaving in this hovel, it reflects poorly on me.”

Mary Jane chuckles as does Peter, the three of them getting to a sitting position, stretching their sore muscles and bodies as they contemplate how to go from there.

“It appears my… expert diplomatic skills have saved the day once again,” Diana comments with only a hint of cheek from her resting position, having enjoyed the show the three lovers had been giving her till now, “Glad to see such wonderful, energetic warriors finally united and tied by such strong bonds, figurative and, as we can see in some cases here, literal at times.”

This earns some chuckles from the three of them.

“If this is what passes for diplomatic missions in your world I’d love to be a diplomat there,” Felicia comments with a hum, turning toward Diana with her spine, “Where do you come from by the way, all I got is that you’ve come from some weird other universe, what are you, one of those Femizons from the 23rd century? An alternate version of Warrior Princess from gods knows what Squadron Supreme from gods knows which universe?”

“We’ve been discussing this conundrum with Spider-Man right before you got here,” Diana says with a smile, getting up from the floor alongside the other three people, “Well, maybe not right before you got there, we were having a more… entertaining discussion at the time, and I’m glad we could have you join with them, but we still need to figure out why or how am I here, and where, exactly, is here in relation to my universe.”

“You’re right, I promised you I’d help you and I’ll do it” Peter says, suddenly turned serious, “But what about Mary Jane’s own memory, or mine? I can’t abandon her just as we’ve finally gotten back together, and we still don’t even know why she started remembering about all of this as soon as she saw you while my own memories are still clouded, we need help, on both fronts, we need professional help.”

“Oh yeah, and how do you think you’ll be getting that help, naked and with your hands tied behind your back Tiger?” Mary Jane cheekily says, bending down and kissing him on the cheek, “I saw our new friend destroy your costume in Felicia’s photos, and those webs are not coming off any time soon, for neither you nor Felicia.”

“Oh.” Peter says, cheeks reddening before realization hits him, “Oh fuck. I don’t have a spare costume, hell, I barely had the money for all the polymer for my last costume, how the fuck am I going to be Spider-Man now!”

“Do not worry Spider-Man,” Wonder Woman interjects with a smile, a hand going to his shoulder in comfort, “I think we can still wait a couple hours for your webbings to dissolve. In the meantime, I will be the one crafting your costume today.”

“You will?” Three, incredulous voices ask the Amazon, a cheeky smile on her face before taking another step back and spinning one, two, three times, back into her Wonder Woman costume.

“Of course. Among the many gifts the gods gave me, I am an excellent sewer, almost on par with Athena herself, do not worry Spider, you are willing to help me, a stranger in your own home and world, someone who demanded so much from you and your body, and selfishly wanted you make love to such beautiful women right in front of her, the least I can do to repay you is gifting you a garment fit for a Greek God as he goes to war, especially after ruining your previous outfit.”

She produces two, overly sized needles from her flank, where a sword would usually be, and sits on the couch in front of them , beginning to sew nothing into blue fabric as Peter’s mind adds “Super-Sewing” to Diana’s many weird powers, still not the weirdest of hers compared to the “spinny” thing or the super-ventriloquism she uses against the Shocker, but still pretty weird.

“Well, that’s convenient.” Mary Jane comments with her eyebrows raised, before stretching her aching bones once more, “Ugh, I’m sticky and gross, who wants to see how many of us can fit into Peter’s barely up to date shower before it breaks, we’re getting him a new apartment anyway, let’s christen this one as much as we can before we get out.”

Peter swallows at her suggestive smile and is almost shoved to the side by Felicia as she hastily follows Mary Jane in his own bathroom, Peter closely behind, not noticing Diana’s small smile at their antics, as she keeps sewing his new costume for him, without a care in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sewing might not be a canonical superpower for any incarnation of Wonder Woman but homegirl has power of control over the dead and soldiers apparently given her divine nature so she gets that one too as a freebie.


	4. The One with the Pegging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic Mary Jane X Peter X Felicia. And by domestic I mean that MJ pegs him really.

**Meanwhile, in the 19 th century…**

The two Deadpools stare at each other, katanas at the ready, in the battlefield of Gettysburg. They watch the other for whatever little movement they might do, ready to spring into action at their first mistake.

“You know,” Present day Deadpool says in his union soldier uniform, sweat forming on his mask and hat for some weird, convoluted reason, “This is supposed to be a porn fanfiction about Spider-Man, how come the focus of the chapter seems to have shifted to our weird, meta fight between my past sins as an awful character and me trying to get over them?”

“Beats me,” Past Deadpool says, wearing a confederate soldier uniform, “I don’t even support the confederacy anyway, I’m just getting payed to help them win so I can go and save Hitler from time traveling assassin and help him win the war. Maybe get back to my time and check Blind Al while I’m at it, I haven’t fed her in a while after all.”

“Sweet Christmas the Bond Girl played by Denise Richards, I was such a dipshit back in the days,” Present Deadpool says with a tired groan, before relaxing his posture, “Ugh, this is boring, want to have a quickie or something, Just to pass the time? It’s not like we have anything better to do anyway…”

Past Deadpool stares at him for some tension filled seconds, contemplating his words, before shrugging, also relaxing his posture.

“Sure, whatever, rock paper scissor to see who tops?”

The following act of self-incest unfortunately caused a small ripple in the space time continuum, already strained by their presence in such a distant past and the multiple arrivals of time displaced and multiverse displaced individuals to present day New York, forcing a small, couple months long time jump on the main timeline of the story, as time moves on and reality shifts.

This, and only this, is what is forcing the author to commit a small, unassuming time jump in our story.

““Press X to Doubt,” Past Deadpool says in a snide tone at the little yellow box containing the narrator words standing above him in his panel, as Present Deadpool facepalms as he cringes, who knows at whom between the narrator, the author or his past self, “Just say you’re a hack who got Writer Block and just wanted to move past it to get to the good parts,”

As we Ignore Past Deadpool inane and slanderous comments, as a cannonball coincidentally shoots beneath his legs and BARELY misses his cancer ridden cock and balls, the two Deadpools leave the scene, searching for a secluded spot in the muddy historically accurate battlefield to consume their pseudo incestuous union, the least we talk about that the better.

Anyway, back to Spider-Man:

* * *

**A couple months later…**

Felicia Hardy wakes with a yawn, arms spread up in the air lazily stirs in her large bed. Her girlfriend fidgets at her side with a low murmur, still fast asleep, gripping at her side and head resting on her lap like she left her (It is, after all, a very large bed, and the temperature in their apartment is nothing but hot, so they don’t really have use for any blanket at the moment), clad in a red and blue silk negligee that did clash terribly chromatically but was still on brand for the redhead, sticking to her body due to the morning haze and her sweat.

Felicia allows herself a small, soft smile, as she absently pets Mary Jane’s head with a hand, before gently getting off from under her and exiting the still darkened room, searching for their missing boyfriend.

Unlike her girlfriend, Felicia prefers to sleep in the nude, and had always considered all her apartments “clothing free” zones, so it would come to no surprise to anyone as she saunters off the room she was now sharing with more people she was expecting when she first bought her apartment with Mary Jane, a thin layer of sweat due to last night activities and the current temperatures clinging to her body, shining down her toned back and atletic belly, sticking to her round orbs and thick, cat burglar worthy ass, her body gloriously exposed for all to see.

She locates her prey in the large, kitchen zone of her living room, a wicked smile coming to her lips as she stalks toward him.

When she had demanded Peter Parker, formerly known by the media as the Spectacular Spider-Man, that she was willing to strongarm him into getting better living condition after their foursome (“Spider, sweetie, you living in this… hovel reflects poorly on me as your new mistress and (ugh) girlfriend, just shut up and let us help you at least on this.”), he probably wasn’t expecting her to basically force him out of his apartment alongside his maybe wife/maybe ex-wife (jury still out on that, even despite their researches on both the scientific and magical fields regarding their missing memories) and got him to move with them not even a day after they officially started dating.

He had attempted to claim it was too fast for things to move in that direction of course, because he was Peter Parker and he was physiologically unable to accept nice things happening to him. He made excuses about how he wasn’t ready or about how he’d just bring them into danger, how he simply couldn’t afford to live in such a fancy apartment as theirs, but then Mary Jane, bless her soul for knowing their Spider so well, had butted in to point out how hypocritical of him was to claim such a thing, given how the only reason why he was dating them in the first place was because he had agreed to a foursome with them, something he seemed plenty ready for at the time.

A look at the state of the art home defense system in their apartment also seemed to ease most of his other protests, as he begrudgingly decided to move with them, not that he had much choice in the matter given how Diana had decided to help them out and use her inhuman strength to bring most of his stuff already there under Felicia’s directions, eager to help her new friends in their endeavors of love.

Diana, on her part, was still sticking around. Peter had brought her, as promised, to Reed Richards, and then to the Sorcerer Supreme and when even that failed to other, different experts on dimensional fuckery and missing memories, and while some of them did regain memories pertaining events regarding her or her world, they were all still at a loss on how or why she was now there with them, nor they knew how to get her back. She had now moved in there with them too, Peter not really being able to leave the woman to fend for herself in a foreign world, and Mary Jane also being a bleeding-heart softie and not wanting her to sleep on the streets, as if she’d ever be forced to do that, Felicia was sure the Avengers or whoever for them would have loved to give the Amazon Princess a place to sleep, especially after Spider-Man had presented her to the local superhero community when they realized she had no other choice but stay there with them for the time being.

Her cats had taken the newcomers in stride, a good chunk of them piling up on Diana as soon as she had set foot on the apartment, like she was some sort of Disney princess or something, and Felicia was almost jealous of that, of all the affections her usually distrustful cats seemed to have with the new arrival in the household. Almost.

Peter hadn’t been so lucky as first impression went. Aside from his general bewilderment at the sheer quantity of pussies he was currently living with, he too was now claiming, just like Mary Jane, that the black tabby from chapter 2 seemed to have it out for him, that he had caught him glaring at him from the corners of their apartment, as if he could snap at any moment and shred him to pieces.

Utter nonsense, Felicia had replied, as if her little black fuzzball would ever hurt a fly.

Diana had so ended up getting Mary Jane former room as she had finally decided to move to Felicia’s, something the Black Cat herself had been both dreading and hoping in the weeks after she had finally moved in with her. This had forced her to move the cats who used to sleep in her bed with her (least she had company of course) back to the living room, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to pay.

Peter, on the other hand, didn’t “officially” get a room.

His lower income compared to Felicia’s and Mary Jane’s, which unfortunately meant he wasn’t exactly contributing much to the household expenses and bills, only made his decision to live with them fuel on his blasted self-martyrizing complex. He tried to never really show it to them of course, because they were strong, independent women and it was 20 fucking 20, so who was he to complain about his girlfriends having a better job and better pay than him (His words, not Felicia’s), or any job really given how his current unemployed status and the few earnings he made out of the few patents he still owned and hadn’t been seized after the fall of Parker Industries.

Parker Industries, another mess of a situation in the long line of messes his usually messy mess of a life. This wasn’t even his fault this time, technically, as many things that happened to him during that one stupid year where Doctor Octopus took over his body weren’t, but he still blamed himself for that, somehow, and Felicia used to blame him for that too, back then when she was angry and scared for what she thought he did to her, the memory of which still made her blood boil, but she had come to terms with it, come to terms on how it wasn’t realistically, his fault, and someone else was to blame, but that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t exactly reveal that to the world and lose his precious secret identity again now, could he?

So, Indeed, Peter Parker was jobless and barely scrapping by in this nightmare of a late stage capitalism society, and he really was feeling like he was taking advantage of them by living in such a fancy apartment free of charge alongside three beautiful women, which only meant Felicia and Mary Jane just needed to have him… occupied with things other than his self-misery if they didn’t want him to screw up their new arrangement not even a month in.

And what better way to do so than to employ him themselves?

Becoming Mary Jane photographer was easy of course, they’ve had a history of taking racy photos of each other over the years, and it did help him come to terms with her new job, especially after witnessing the rather… weird rather than really pornographic nature of most of her pieces (“Hold on, Hold on, Hold on, you’re telling me they are paying you THIS MUCH for a photo of you looking down the camera in disgust, several inches taller than the shot? Fully clothed? What the hell?”), but that could only satisfy his desire to be needed, to be useful, to have a reason to be there so much, so Felicia had to take some… drastic measures.

Case in point, Peter Parker currently making breakfast for them, her cats sated and fed already by him, whistling a low tune at eleven in the morning, wearing only a frilly apron and nothing else.

She can see the muscled contour of his back and shoulders, lean and strong, so used to carry the weight of the world on it, some scars that never healed still there, the white knot keeping the apron tied right above his succulent, bouncy, so slappable ass.

Turns out, if she had wanted to really keep her Spider with her all those years ago, all she needed to do was propose to become his sugar mommy. She’d give him money, give him an apartment he definitely couldn’t afford, a rich and pampered lifestyle that still allowed him to go out there, with back up this time much to Mary Jane’s utter relief, without a care in the world, and all he needed to do was to serve her, and by extension serve Mary Jane, to the best of his abilities.

He was surprisingly into it, more so than she expected him be. Maybe his encounter with the Amazon, all her lectures of “voluntary slavery” and “serving the ones we love” really did convince him, or maybe it was just his big, stupid brain trying to find the least abusive way for him to get hurt by his decision to date them, trying to get around all of his dumb syndromes and complexes and his damnable Parker’s Luck, by deciding to get enslaved to a Black Cat.

Enslaved was a strong word of course. He was free to do as he pleased, and still held a status of equality to both of them, but he was also the one who did most if not all of the house chores for them, and he was always so eager to help either of them out with something, so ready to be at their back and call at their moment of need, be it needing some strong, spider-powered man to move some furniture around and fixing broken appliances, or needing a nice, relaxing massage after a long day of cat-burglaring, and how easily some Spiders forget about complaining about where she got her money from when she offers them a relaxing “massage” back afterwards.

It helped knowing who exactly was she robbing of course, and who was getting the biggest cut of her heists. After all, why should Spider-Man complain if some mafia boss’ blood diamonds happened to disappear in the night, get sold, and have a good chunk of the earnings delivered to one of her favorite shelters for sexual abuse victims?

And it wasn’t like he didn’t have any freedom outside of that, he wasn’t an actual slave after all, and he could say “no” at any time and both Felicia and Mary Jane would have gladly dropped whatever they were asking him to do... Or be done to him.

No, the better name Felicia should have given to Peter’s new role was probably Househusband. If Househusbands were strongly encouraged to do most of their chores still in the nude so to become easy targets for wandering Cats, Redheads and occasionally Amazons.

She licks her lips, ready to pounce on her prize, a graceful half step forward as she attempt to hug him from behind, maybe sneak her hands down his apron and get to work on his spider-cock as she starts grinding against his thick ass, catch him by surprise and enjoy the startled blush and moan that’d escape his life if she had her way with him, right over the kitchen counter, only for him to easily dodge her with a twirl, presenting her with a cocky grin and a plate of enticingly warm looking waffles.

“I’ve known you for years Felicia, as if I wouldn’t recognize you when you try to be stealthy while you’re horny,” He says, all cheeky grin and mirth, and she doesn’t know if she feels frustrated or happy to be able to see him make such an expression.

She pouts, just barely, but she can tell that he noticed because his grin only widens. She accepts the offered plate, bringing it to her antique table she happened to use as a kitchen table, “Ugh, fine, I’ll get you for this later-”

“Can’t wait for it, Cat,” he replies, sitting at the table and placing the two plates down, seeing Felicia do the same on her sit in front of him, “Mary Jane’s still asleep? Diana’s out, woke me up at nine and went patrolling or something, can’t believe how easily she has adapted to this new life.”

“Could say the same about you,” Felicia mutters her replies, stabbing the pancake with her fork as she curtly cuts a piece of it with a knife, before putting it in her mouth, her sour mood brightening considerably at the taste “Mmmmm, fuck, Spider, a thing I’ll defiantly never adapt to is how fucking divine your food is, it’s like I’m getting my mouth fucked into multiple orgasms, god!”

Felicia is closing her eyes and savoring every bite, but she doesn’t need to see or be Daredevil to know that Peter is blushing at her praise just by the shy sputter coming from him at her words, a small smirk coming to her face at the thought. She swallows and gives him a heavy-lidded gaze.

“As for Mary Jane, yeah, she’s probably still tired after last night,” she says between bites, a mischievous grin coming to her features, “She missed you so much, Spider. Having to hear you fuck our gorgeous guest not even a room away, I had to fuck her into unconsciousness just to keep her mind off of it you know?”

Peter swallows at the mental image of Mary Jane, a simple wall dividing them, hearing him pleasure another woman as she herself is getting pleasured in return by someone who isn’t him. This conjures all sort of other, vastly different images, and he doesn’t really know what to do with it but apparently his dick does because it starts to stir beneath his apron.

Having to add Diana to their new, budding household had somehow forced them to consider different dynamics for their relationship. They all loved each other dearly, bonds like theirs not easily broken or bent, but they also had to live together with what was basically a Greek Goddess.

A very horny Greek Goddess.

Peter not having an actual room was only the straw that broke the camel’s back. Switching between the two, one night servicing their “Guest,” another his “Mistresses,” another having to be kept home by a certain redhead so not to interfere with a certain cat burglar’s heist just for old time sake, another patrolling the streets in a Black Cat/Wonder Woman Sandwich, Peter was passed between the three women every night, as if he was a prized sex toy in a raunchy college sorority filled with Mutants (confirmed as the horniest of human subgenres by several “scientific” publications over the years).

Felicia and Mary Jane were already not exclusive, even before he came into the picture, and while they didn’t exactly talk about ever bringing other people in, Diana was an honorary member of the group at this point, and none of them really minded having her around when they decided to have some R Rated fun together. None of them had fucked anyone else either in the months they’ve been together, testing the waters of their new relationship first before diving headfirst into that too, but Peter was… 99% sure they could, potentially, fuck other people and be ok with it. Maybe.

Still, that 1% of insecurity was stopping him from pursuing this line of thought further of course, not that he was really, actively prowling the streets finding some other hot woman to fuck, even if Mary Jane or Felicia gave their express consent to him to do just that. He was content with just the two of them, and he could tell, for once in his life, that they were also really happy with each other and just him for now, with maybe some stray Diana added in the mix, so he never really had the urge nor really the desire to ask if his two girlfriends and him were still, you know, not exclusive like Felicia and Mary Jane used to be before he came into the picture.

Still, his thoughts and cock betrayed him once again as he thought of all the people that could replace Felicia, Diana, Mary Jane and hell, even him in the aforementioned mental picture, someone who wasn’t him fucking them, someone who wasn’t them fucking him, the endless possibilities...

“Any plans for the day?” Felicia asks between bites, thankfully taking his mind off his traitorous thoughts, “Me and Red were planning to meet up with a friend of mine, maybe get some new lead on how and why you ever managed to forget you were married with each other -Awww, don’t look at me like that Spider, they’re not a supervillain this time- so I hope you didn’t have plans with either of us till this night…”

“Don’t worry Cat, I’ll find a way to amuse myself until either of you returns” He says, hiding a grimace as he brings back his and Felicia’s plate to the kitchen, and spots the day’s paper on the counter, giving its frontpage page a weary glance , “The house is cleaned and your cats are fed, I’ll probably have a quick lunch here and then just go out patrolling a bit, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

“If you really have nothing better to do, you could start that defamation lawsuit against the Bugle I’ve been pestering you about, Tiger, ”Mary Jane says as she comes out of her room, a vision in red and blue even despite the messy bed hair and yawning smile. She sits on her spot at the table and greedily bites on her serving on pancakes, gratefully accepting the offered coffee mug from her boyfriend at her side, “Honestly, it’s awful the shit they’ve been writing about you, just because you happened to get a slightly more… empowering costume.”

Peter winces at her words, Mary Jane already having eyed up that morning copy of the bugle and grabbing it from him “Look at this drivel, does the Bugle only write hit pieces against you? There was a robot uprising in Ohio yesterday for god’s sake, shouldn’t they be talking about it?”

“That’s on page 9,” Peter answers with another sigh, his tone trying to get conciliatory “And look, MJ, we’ve been having this talk ever since you’ve known I was Spider-Man, I can’t exactly go there and sue them without revealing my secret identity, and who the hell would even represent Spider-Man right now with the bad publicity I’ve been getting as of late? Against the former mayor of New York while we’re at it?”

“And it’s not like even with a lawsuit it’d be that easy to stop them,” Felicia interjects with a smirk, eyeing the newspaper from her “Although it would force them to make better titles: “The Sexctacular Spider-Slut Strikes Again,” ugh, they’ve used this last week already, get a better creative team you hacks.”

The picture of Spider-Man on the front cover shows him in the new costume Diana has made for him a couple months ago, as an apology for destroying his last one, as he dodges the Scorpion’s tail. He had been grateful for her, at least till he had seen exactly what he was about to wear of course.

His feet were covered way up to his knee by stocking like versions of his classic costume, long and adhering to his body. A dangerous chunk of his upper tights is then shown, ending with some sort of red and blue speedo, sticking to his flesh like a glove, his spider logo starting from the fabric clinging to his thick, bubbly ass, his large cock uncomfortably snug in the tight yet still fitting undergarments, accentuating his heavy bulge. His chest his barely covered by what would have been the upper part of his ensemble, a large, rectangular hole over his flat, toned belly, showing his bellybutton to the world, and a round one on his upper chest, barely covering his nipples, a perfect rendition of his mask thankfully hiding his civilian identity better than his costume was hiding his nips, ending with a choker at his neck, gloves with web shooters at his hands and wrists, his toned arms bare.

When he and Mary Jane had questioned Diana about the… practicality of the outfit, defiantly ignoring Felicia hysterical laughter in the background, she had easily answered them about how she had fashioned his new costume on classical amazon warrior apparel, briefly lamenting the lack of heels to complete the ensemble as a easy weapon to use with his feet, justifying all her design choices as ways to distract his enemies during fights as they’re busy ogling at his naked assets, his now unclothed limbs losing the friction he previously had against the air, allowing him to be faster and more agile.

Really, such an empowering and practical costume any female heroine out there would sell their imaginary twin sons to have.

He… really couldn’t deny wearing it after that now, could he? And to be fair, he did feel “empowered” when wearing it, and he did get a surprising surge in fans after his recent costume change, some blogs already attributing the change some other alien costume from outer space of course.

“Some of their so called journalists probably heard everyone’s favorite amazon princess call him something like that after a job well done and decided to completely rebrand Spider-Man,” Felicia continues saying with a grimace, “Even if we decided to sue the Bugle and win, and we would win mind you I know some really good lawyers, even managed to only fuck one, you’d be in great hands, well, even if we decided to sue them, the internet is still running wild with memes about your new “brand” as spider-man. It’s a lost cause MJ, you can’t defeat the memes.”

“And it’s not like I mind really,” Peter says, and he actually does believe it, “The bugle has been calling me a menace and a terrorist for years, them calling me a slut is actually just a breath of fresh air for a change? I’m fine MJ, I swear, and honestly, better for it to happen to me than to someone like Silk or Spider-Woman, at least when they call me a whore it’s not sexist”

“Except it is, Tiger, and I will not let you martyrize yourself to shoulder every spider-woman out there poor choice of costume,” Mary Jane drawls, a sigh of defeat escaping her mouth soon after, “Sigh, fine, whatever, let the world treat you like some cheap slut, see if I care.”

A small smirk comes to Mary Jane’s mouth, quickly overtaken by a grim, authoritative line, “In fact, you want the world to treat you like a piece of meat? Then we’ll treat you like a piece of meat, right Cat?”

“Reading my mind Red,” Felicia says with a smirk, eyeing him up like the proverbial cat that spotted the proverbial juicy, thick canary, tongue wetting her lips already “In fact, you know Spider, you do make some splendid pancakes, but I think me and Red are more famished than we expected after you left us to starve last night, right Red?”

“Mmmmm, damn right Cat, I did feel rather hungry last night,” Mary Jane says, her tone easily turning playful, “So hungry and so lonely too, and I think you should really make up for it with more than some pancakes now Tiger, anything against it?”

Peter gulps, Adam apple bobbling up and down, both women hungrily watching him.

“Get up from that chair, move it back and put your hands on the table, legs spread. Keep the apron on.” Felicia commands, and he hesitates only a moment before he fulfils her request, standing half naked in the middle of the room, his erection wobbling against the fabric of the apron as he places his hands against the table and waits for them, legs spread as if he was a suspect ready to get frisked.

“Good boy,” Felicia purrs, sending shivers down Peter’s spine as she stands up from her own sit and circles the table toward him, “Can you take the front Red? I have a… grudge to set with this _smartass_ here.”

“Awww, kitty, didn’t know you wanted to play with my ass that badly-” Peter says with a half chuckle, his momentary mirth cut short by Felicia finally position herself behind him and slaps his thick, juicy ass, a small yelp escaping his mouth.

“Silence, Slut,” Mary Jane is the one who chastises him, a triumphant grin on her face before easily sliding beneath the table, kneeling in front of his spread legs, “You want to be treated like a sex object by the media, right? Sex Objects are not allowed to talk when they get fucked, only moan like the little bitches they are.”

She slithers between his legs, raising his apron above her and draping above her, roughly grabbing Peter’s erect length by the base with one hand as she comes face to dick with it. She kisses his still sheathed cockhead, before forcing his foreskin down, a groan escaping Peter’s mouth, only to morph into a moan as Mary Jane’s skilled tongue starts lapping at his length. He whines, one of her hands already going to his heavy balls and squeezing, gently massaging them, almost weighting them in her hands, her tongue slowly, agonizingly relishing his full member with her tongue, almost as if she’s trying to get the taste engraved in her memory, before finally taking his large cockhead in, already sucking down to his half-length with practiced movements before coming back, a slow back and forth as she savors his dick like she’d be tasting fine wine, the obscene gurgling sounds from beneath the table and his frilly apron not helping him in the slightest as he tries to keep himself from moving from his spot, twitching all the same.

“Such a good little cocksucker, isn’t she?” Felicia sings songs in his ear, body flush against his back, her voluptuous jugs pressing against him. She bites his lobe, Peter’s now a moaning mess as his knees buckle under Mary Jane’s expert mouth’s ministrations of his cock, Felicia then straightening back to her full length before moving to his left, wickedly eyeing his rump, one cheek already starting to redden from her swat, licking her lips at the sight.

She swats again, without warning, making him yelp in pain, his other cheek hit by her naked hand as a feral grin comes to the Black Cat’s face, a small, easily forgotten spike of Spider-Sense his only warning ass most of his blood is concentrated in his Spider-Cock.

“This is what happens when you don’t let your pussy play with her toys,” She says, almost growls, a sadistic light in her eyes as she keeps smacking Peter’s Spider-Ass with moderate strength, cries of pain mixed with moans of pleasure from the discordant attack he is receiving on both fronts, his cheek reddening under the prolonged assault, Peter threading the fine line between heaven and hell with each swat and suck he receives.

He tries to buckle his hips on instinct each swat, away from the pain and into Mary Jane’s devilish mouth, but her hold on his balls tightens, small pinpricks of tears forming at his eyes as he can irrationally feel his balls almost getting crushed in her hold, his spider enhanced durability and stamina thankfully not leaving any lasting damage yet still causing him pain and, to his shame, some amount of pleasure.

Her sucking speed quickens, gaining a rhythm with each of his thrusts from one of Felicia’s swats, each time getting more and more of his cock in her mouth as she eases her hold on his balls, teasing them with her hand soon after, her digits manipulating his heavy ballsack before yanking them down with some force. Felicia is now going to town on his ass, her breath getting more labored, and she doesn’t care people would be able to hear his yowls even outside the soundproof walls in the apartment, nor that her cats are watching them with a mix of curiosity and feline judgement, she just takes her frustrations on him.

His ass now raw, Felicia finally stops, trying to catch back her breath, “Fuck I needed that.”

“You good Spider?” She asks him with a wary smile, eyeing him as he whines under Mary Jane ministrations, the dull throb of his ass cheeks a constant reminder of what she just did to him.

As Felicia says that, apparently giving him an out, Mary Jane finally takes his whole length in her mouth. He emits a frustrated moan feeling his large cock hitting the back of her throat as she chokes on his meat, her grasp tightening at the base of his balls, preventing him to have his release into her, but he nods nevertheless, even if he can’t vocalize his assent right now, and that is apparently all Felicia needs to hear to be reassured.

“Well, then I think it’s time I also get my special breakfast now,” She sings songs between her heavy breaths, sweat forming on her body as her chest heaves up and down, not that he can see her, nor can he see her as she lowers herself on her knees behind him, hungrily eying his abused ass, “After all, it is the most important meal of the day.”

She dives in, open mouthed, right between his abused ass cheeks, the friction causing him some mild discomfort as her wandering tongue easily finds his tiny rosebud. He can feel her grin against his ass, unconsciously bending over a little more to allow her more easy access to him, teasing her lapping against his opening as he relaxes and slowly allows her inside his ass, her hands firmly planted on his hips as she feast on him, gripping his flesh almost possessively.

Mary Jane finally releases his cock, taking a deep breath of fresh air, her hand going to the bridge of his saliva covered dick, almost brushing it as she slowly, softly grips his length into her fist, running it up and down with slow, methodical strokes. He moans, his legs slowly turning into jelly as he slumps atop the table in order not to fall off, Felicia grip on his thick hips as well as Mary Jane firmly gentle strokes, in clear contrast with her gently firm hold on his balls with her other hand, both almost making him fall and keeping him up at the same time.

Mary Jane’s soft lips go to his balls, tenderly kissing each, and a small part of his mind, the one who can still think semi clearly, irrationally curses the fact she wasn’t wearing any lipstick at the time, as if to mark them as hers. She takes them in her mouth, an impressive feat given how large and full they are, tickling with her mouth as she savors them, his hard cock right above her as she keeps stroking it..

She releases him again with a gasp, her slick saliva coating his balls now, and he whines again as she completely removes herself from his cock and balls, right before he was about to cum, chuckling darkly at the sight of his squirming cock in front of her

“Look at this pathetic cock, so eager to get used and abused by his mistresses,” Mary Jane mocks him from beneath him, a cruelty he is strangely unfamiliar with, slightly dampened by the fact she is currently beneath his apron, “Do you want to cum tiger? You want to feed your slutty model housewife like you did so many times before?”

Peter whimpers in assent, and she quickly goes back to his balls, her grip on them tight and unforgiving as her other hand goes to his cock, a quick stroking pace almost bringing him to tears, her hand spreading her saliva all around his wet cock as Felicia face’s is now almost engulfed by his Spider-Ass, a moan escaping Peter’s mouth as he can feel his release coming.

“Then give me your cum Peter, cum like the filthy bitch the world says you are!” She commands, her mouth once again descending on the tip of his cock, scrapping her teeth against its ridge as he cums inside, fat spouts of cum filling her waiting mouth. His knees finally give way, falling to the side in a yelp, his freed cock erupting some last strands of his come against Mary Jane face and then his apron as he fell on the kitchen ground with a ow.

“Fuck, stupid quick shot spider I wasn’t finished eating my treat-” Felicia whines with a pout, having had the presence of mind of getting off her feast as he felt Peter’s knees give way from under him. Without Peter between them however, Mary Jane can quickly crawl over to Felicia, claiming her chin in her hand as she bring the cat burglar’s mouth to hers, sloppily making out with the other woman right in front of Peter, swapping his cum from her filled mouth to Felicia’s with her tongue, only to have Felicia own wandering tongue savor it before giving it back to her, the wet sounds of their spit and his cum getting mingled a fitting tune for their lewd display.

They break the kiss, a strand of cum and saliva still holding between their mouths like a spider-web, like the world’s most on the nose metaphor. They swallow what little cum they still have left to swallow, gazes locked on one another, before Felicia dives once again to Mary Jane’s mouth, devouring it with hers, tasting Peter’s cock in it as she moves from there to her face proper, lapping what little cum was in it in her greedy mouth with a hum of contentment.

“Kitty finally got her cream uh?” Mary Jane says with a cheeky grin as Felicia finally stops, licking her lips before turning back to Peter, currently sprawled back first on the floor on their right, trying to keep his reddened ass away from the rough surface as he hoists himself up his own elbows behind him.

He gulps as he feels more than sees their still hungry gazes on him, seizing him up the whole thing kind of ruined by Felicia’s cats, some of whom are now sprawled at around him and staring at him in a sliding scale of interest and feigned indifference.

“So- when do I get my treat then?” He says, cheeky bravado in full display even despite his softened cock and raw ass.

“Oh, seems like the Spider didn’t learn his lesson yet,” Felicia purrs with a smirk, prowling toward him on all fours as she reaches him. She moves him on his front, a yelp escaping his mouth as he is now face first against the ground, Felicia untying the apron from behind him as she frees him from it, the cloth now trapped between the floor and his naked body.

She starts caressing his plump ass again, a small jolt of pain running down him at the contact, and he doesn’t notice as Felicia and Mary Jane give each other charged looks behind his back, Mary Jane getting up and temporarily leaving the room.

“Poor Spider, getting his naughty ass spanked by the big, bad black cat,” Felicia taunts him, thankfully removing her hands from his abused ass, a sigh of relief escaping Peter as she crawls toward his head, him hoisting himself up from his elbows and looking at her, now on all fours in front of him, wiggling her large ass at him, “Do you want to punish Me? Do you yearn to punish the big bad black cat for spanking your poor, tender Spider-Ass? Spank my thick ass just like I spanked yours? Fuck it like you used to do so many times back then? No matter what it might cost you?”

He nods, almost on instinct, as she gives him a seductive glance, turning her head to him with a tilt from her prone position, a smirk on her face at his eagerness, already crawling toward her tantalizing ass.

“Mmmmm, too bad,” She sing-songs, a mocking laugh escaping her mouth as she crawls her ass away from his reach, “Because you are our bitch today and you don’t get to say what you can or cannot do. I can. And I say the only thing you can do is eat my ass like the eager little butt slut you are!”

He only whines a little at her denial, but she wiggles her ass some more in front of him, and he can see the natural control she ass on her hole, squeezing and widening in front of his very eyes thanks to her very muscles alone, and he can’t stand it anymore as descends on her plump ass like a starving man. She holds back a moan as he teases and prods at her puckered hole, his hands going to her fat ass cheeks and spreading them, squeezing her soft flesh in his hands.

The taste of her ass is overpowering his senses, the gurgling sounds of his sucking and lapping muffled by her plump flesh, one of his hands going down to her wet pussy and rubbing it with his fingers.

“What a good little but slut, so good for me, so eager to eat his mistress’ ass when she tells him to,” She moans, almost to herself, grinding her ass against his face, one hand going to her nipple and twisting it as he keeps rubbing her trembling pussy, “Are you ready for the real treat to come, Spider? Are you ready you pathetic Spider-Slut?”

“Yeah Tiger, are you ready?”

A cold liquid starts spurting on his bruised ass, sending shivers down his spine as a gentle, caring hand starts spreading around it. He stops himself, freezing, causing Felicia to whine in protest, as he can feel Mary Jane’s hands dripping the unidentified liquid on his backside, giving him some momentary relief from the throbbing, dull pain he had been feeling ever since Felicia had her fun with it. Then, slowly, Mary Jane’s slick fingers start converging towards his puckered hole, brushing against it

“I told you I was going to pop your anal cherry when we started this thing, didn’t I?” Mary Jane says with an easy laugh, and he removes himself from Felicia’s ass, looking behind himself with a gulp, “Or did I tell you you could pop mine? Eh, can’t remember, either way I’ll probably gona let you do that tonight, but first I want you to understand who you belong to, Spider-Slut.”

Mary Jane is right behind him, one hand slick with lube on his hip, squeezing, the other having two fingers almost knocking on his backdoor, a challenging smile on her lips as eh can clearly see, still inside her almost transparent negligee, the fat strap fastened at her hips, a large, blue and red rubber cock already slick with more lube and a condom on it.

“Is that-”

“A strap on version of your Spider-Cock?” Mary Jane finishes for him, one hand going to the familiar yet so alien length and stroking it slowly, spreading some more lube around “Yes Peter, Felicia had it made with her 3D Printer last week, copied right from the original model, and I can’t wait for you to be the first man to try it.”

Peter gulps again, staring at her, a small amount of fear battling against a new, foreign desire in him, his heart beating in his chest with a frantic beat as the anticipation of things to come, the line this act they were about to do would cross hardens his cock like it never hardened before.

“Now, are you ready for this, Tiger? Just know that if you aren’t, or if you are not comfortable with this even if you consent to it now, we can stop at any moment, you just need to tell us to.” Mary Jane says, a hint of concern marrying her otherwise casual tone, “So, are you good? Just know I’ll let you fuck my ass tonight like I promised you to no matter what you choose.”

Peter gulps, his dick painfully throbbing between his legs, sweat pooling on his brow, a small yet incredibly long silence pervading the room before, finally, he answers her.

“I’m… I’m fine. I want to do this with you, wouldn’t be fair if-”

Felicia scoffs, stopping him from talking, “Wouldn’t be fair if she let you fuck her ass and you didn’t let her fuck yours Spider? Strange, you didn’t have that same problem when you fucked Diana’s ass last month, or mine when I finally convinced you to have a go at it when we were still together. Just admit you want your gorgeous girlfriend to fuck you like the little bitch you are.”

Peter blushes, averting his gaze from Mary Jane, only to come face to face- ehm, ass with Felicia’s backside.

“She’s right, Tiger. I want to hear you say it. Say you want to get fucked by your own cock like the dirty little slut the Bugle says you are” Mary Jane responds with a smirk, one finger prodding inside Peter already wet and loosened hole from before and writhing inside it, spreading the lube against the rim and inside, causing him to moan.

“Fffuck, OK, yes, I want you to fuck my ass with my cock like the bitch I am, happy now MJ?”

“Damn Spider, who knew getting two girlfriends turned you into such a weak-willed whore,” Felicia mocks him once again, peter giving her fat rump a swat with his hand as he glares at her, a hiss coming out her mouth at his action.

“Fuck, I told you you weren’t allowed to-” She’s stopped from her complain as he roughly manhandles her on her back, a yelp of surprise escaping her mouth as he drops on her pussy, hands gripping her inner tights and spreading her legs as he starts lapping at her folds with gusto.

“Uuuughhh, seems our pet hasn’t lost his claws yet,” Felicia whines with a smirk, moans escaping her mouth even as she bits her lower lip. He keeps sucking and licking at her folds, almost biting, one of her hands already on his hair and gripping them, shoving him against her sex “W-what, you want to eat a pussy out when you get your ass fucked, afraid of losing what little is left of your s-stupid cishet m-masculinity if you just came just by getting your ass f-fucked? You P-pathetic-”

He doesn’t listen to her moaned taunts as she gets more and more incoherent as he keeps eating her out, him being too busy trying to psyche himself up as he savors and devours Felicia’s pussy, the familiar taste managing to calm him for what was to come, Mary Jane fingers finally lubing him up enough as they retract from his ass.

“Relax, Tiger,” She says with a gentle tone, cock already aimed at his entrance and pushing, so faintly, against his hole, “And happy international women’s day.”

He wills himself to relax, and he can’t believe he does so, even despite himself, even despite the faint buzz of his Spider-Sense, heightening his senses even despite himself, as he can feel everything around him, the taste of Felicia’s pussy as much as he can feel Mary Jane’s own fake Spider-Cock, but he still loosens his hole for her, steeling himself for her.

Because this was Mary Jane Watson he was dealing with, someone he’d trust with his own life, so why shouldn’t he trust her with his ass too?

Slowly, agonizingly, she starts coming in, letting him get adjusted to the unfamiliar size in his ass, a small moan escaping her mouth at her actions, and he hopes she has another dildo, a vibrator, something inside her strap too, because he wants her to feel good while she’s fucking him, just as he’s sure she’ll make him feel good soon, the weird, not that unpleasant sensation of her cock spearing through his ass quickly turning into some faint pleasure, and only mounting as he gets more and more full with her.

“God Tiger, look at you, you’re doing great, taking it all in your slutty ass, so good for me, you’re so fucking good Tiger, so fucking full for me, what a good boy-” she praises him, getting down on, flush against his back as she whispers in a soothing tone in his hear, her whispered praise a startling contrast with Felicia own mocking words.

“Yeah, so good at getting cock,” Felicia mocks him, almost delirious in her moans, eyes fixated on the spectacle right in front of her, Peter’s desperate tongue lapping at her, sucking at his clit, penetrating her folds, as she twists her pink nipples almost too tightly to not feel any pain, “God, what a pathetic little whore, getting his fat Spider-Ass stuffed, you ready to get fucked like you fucked all the women in your life Spider? You ready to feel what they feel when you make them your bitch? Fffffuck keep eating my cunt you bastard maybe you’ll feel less of a cheap whore if you d-do that-!”

The discordant treatment by his two girlfriends is doing… _things_ to him. His cock is hard, painfully so, hanging neglected between his legs as his ass gets progressively more and more full, eating out Felicia like a starving man, grasping at the soft flesh of her tights with the same strength Mary Jane is gripping his own hips, as she slowly, carefully finally buries her entire lengths inside of him.

This sensation, this new fullness is something he has never seen before, Mary Jane gently adjusting her dick in his ass, moving his posture with careful movements as she tries to have her dildo push just the right places inside his sensitive ass, Felicia’s pussy muffling his whimpers as she keeps holding his face against it.

“You good Tiger?” She coos, her breath barely labored, Peter’s mouth too busy eating pussy to answer her now, forcing him to do a thumbs up with his hand, which only causes Mary Jane to smirk, “Good boy, I knew you could do it, I knew you could take my fat cock all the way in like the good slut you are.”

He whimpers at her praise, trembling in both anticipation and ecstasy as she finally starts moving inside him. Her thrusts are slow, minimal, more wiggling so to allow him to really get used to his length than actual movements, gyrating her hips as she can feel the stud on her end of the strap on delightfully press against her, aa whimper escaping Mary Jane’s mouth even as she bites her lower lip to suppress it as the high of being the first woman who ever fucked Peter’s spectacular ass finally hit her in full.

Her pace gets faster, as do his frantic licking and biting and sucking of Felicia’s pussy and clit, a stream of moans coming off the cat burglar as words finally fail her. Each new thrust by Mary Jane she moving, angling herself better, until she grabs one of his legs and raises it on her shoulder, spreading him and hitting into him in a completely different angle, each thrust now a direct punch against his prostate, and he would scream if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied as she keeps fucking him, his cock wobbling, rock hard.

She moans, but not as loud as Felicia yowls as she finally comes, her juices drenching his face and dripping down his chin, riding her orgasm against his mouth before slumping down, exhausted, and releasing her hold on him. Mary Jane is lightning fast, and with a little final push he’s on his back again, his still reddened ass raised off it as she holds him tight, fucking him against the ground, eyes locked on his flushed face, his mouth open in a oh shape and eyes closed, and she can’t believe how beautiful he is, even now.

“Look at you Red,” Felicia comments as she tries to catch her breath, already grabbing the nearest wandering cat around, the black tabby from chapter 2, and dropping it on her belly to pet him, like the world most derivative James Bond’s femme fatale, as she admires the spectacle in front of her, “The damsel in distress finally fucking her hero like he deserves. Truly, we have reached peak girl power today.”

Mary Jane snorts at her joke, and Peter would too if he wasn’t otherwise occupied getting his ass worn out and widened by his gorgeous girlfriend’s strap. He is close, his ass clenching, clapping around the mockery of his own cock, and Mary Jane can sense it as she grabs, yanks on his cock and returns jerking it, Peter finally breaking his limit soon after as thick ropes of cum finally spurts out his cock once again, right against his chest and face, and he can once again taste his seed in his own mouth but he doesn’t care anymore because he can hear that him cumming, her making him come by violating his ass, seems to have also tipped Mary Jane over the edge, as she cums inside her own strap on with a strangled moan, warm juices dripping through the fabric and down her legs.

She slumps on top of him, the two lovers breathing hard, almost in sync, her head resting on his shoulder, still buried inside of him, catching their breaths, together, for some seconds. She is the first to recover from her orgasm, slowly extracting her fake cock from his quivering ass, still slightly widened before it quickly starts to return to normal.

“Look at this beginner gape, we’ll definitely have to train it properly now, getting it all nice and wide for me” Mary Jane coos, wiggling out of her slick strap and removing the condom off of it as she admires her handywork, “Just like you’re going to train mine too Tiger, God I can’t wait, I’m getting wet already...”

He whimpers at her words, gaze half lidded, lost in his own little world, as Mary Jane circles him and crawls toward him, getting his head in her lap and caressing his sweating brow, beaming down at him.

“You OK Tiger?” She murmurs as he whimpers in her embrace, a content smile going to his lips, “Want to get back to our bed? Cuddle a little? Me and Felicia are not going anywhere yet we still have time before we need to go to our mystery meeting-”

Peter nods and emits a satisfied hum. Felicia leaves momentarily, only to return with a wet cloth, the two women gently scrubbing off what was left of his cum from his tired body. Mary Jane helps him stand up, and alongside Felicia, who pinches his ass one last time with a smirk, help him get to their darkened room, leaving the dining room filled to the brim with bewildered cats behind, his now ruined apron forgotten on the floor.

They gently place him on the bed, before sandwiching him between them, content from get into a early nap in the middle of the late morning, because they were self-employed and the overbearing fist of capitalism wasn’t forcing them to overwork themselves to death in order to survive, Felicia hugging him from behind, her pillowy breasts gently pushing his head between them, cooing him as Mary Jane lies in front of him, legs tangled with his shorter ones as she hugs him, her face to his, and he can see through his bleary eyes that she’s smiling at him, caressing his hair with gentle, careful strokes.

“You’re so good to us Tiger,” She murmurs, sleep taking him and probably her as well if her lazy yawn is any indication, “So- so good. And I love you so much. We love you so much”

Felicia yawns, already catnapping, as she squeezes him closer to her, as if he was a spider-bodypillow, a content sigh coming out her mouth, a pleased smile on her lips.

Peter’s brain doesn’t register their words yet, too busy getting smothered by their soft bodies and by his sore limbs and ass, already fixing itself up via his spider-genes, but he answers her words nonetheless, as his mind drifts to sleep with a content smile, ready to weather whatever was to come with them.

“I love you both too, MJ.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Properly research how to use your sex toys before deploying it in the bed chamber, and always wash them before and after use. Use of condoms is also suggested if you intend to use it on different partners and not just yourself.
> 
> Do not stick anything in your or other people ass before properly preparing them, least you were to rapture their ass, which is never pleasant, or they happened to be "naturally lubricated".
> 
> And by "Naturally Lubricated" I mean they've been shitting non stop for a hour of course, asses do not have the natural lubrication pussies have after all, so when someone mentions "ass juices" or some, well, shit, remember: What they're talking about is, indeed, shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgot to mention, this work is set in a universe where in 1995 international superpowers Latveria and Wakanda managed to strong arm the United States into joining the metric system like the rest of the civilized world rather than stay with the British Imperial System much like the USA is still using today.
> 
> The States managed to snag the Cure for Cancer and some Trade Agreements out of it, so I wouldn't say it was that bad of a deal.


End file.
